Lattimer's Wake
by Treadhead
Summary: Sequel to episode Bride and Gloom. Priestess Dantalian returns to steal the powers of a man who isn't aware that he's a warlock. Complications arise when the Charmed Ones attempt to rescue him.


The Characters of the Charmed Ones, Leo, Cole and Dantalian are property of Aaron Spelling, and are borrowed by me for the express purpose of writing this fan fic story. This story, entitled Lattimer's Wake was written in June of 2001, prior to Prue's leaving the show. Instead of updating it with Paige, I felt it best to leave it alone. It takes place roughly a year after the 3rd Season episode Bride and Gloom. If you'd like to send comments, feel free to email me at Treadhead7@yahoo.com. 

_ They called her Dantalian._   
_ She belonged to the night, for she was as dark and cold as the most inhospitable and unforgiving reaches of the_   
_Earth. She was evil personified. It was all she'd ever known. It was all she would ever know._   
_ Evil was absolute and uncompromising. There were many who openly paid homage to good, yet served evil in all its glory. They would never admit this, even to themselves, for such an admission would destroy the very facade they so desperately wanted to believe was a soul._   
_ Evil dispensed with the chains that bound the weak. It was not cruelty for cruelty's sake, for this was a waste. It_ _was a celebration of the animal nature that pervaded and to some degree, possessed the world. This was a nature without conscience, as lust and greed were it's driving force. It possessed no regrets, no sorrow._   
_ Evil could not love. It possessed. Love was a poison that incapacitated, binding one to the servitude of another,_   
_oftentimes with little or no gain. There was no percentage in giving unless that received was of greater value. Evil did not give nor compromise. It took without any false notions of equity._   
_ Evil could hate. Hatred was all consuming; it's appetite, insatiable. It burned like the sun and stars. But as the sun_ _and stars would one day perish, hatred was eternal._   
_ She was driven by Evil, along with a lust for power, and a hatred for those who had wronged her. She would not know satisfaction until she possessed that which she desired, and wrought vengeance upon those who hurt her._   
_ Until then, she would not rest._   


__

Piper examined the small identification card in her hand. It was a military ID that she'd found in the bar that morning. Leo had told her just to drop it in a mailbox, and it would get back to its owner. With all the excitement that had been going on that morning, she'd forgotten about it completely.   
A noise behind her caused her to jump.   
"Hey sis, easy there. It's just me, " a soft voice began. "Chill, will ya?"   
"You're getting as bad as Leo, popping in unannounced. Scared the hell out of me. Christ, Pheebs."   
"I just wanted to get a drink of water, okay? Now if your heart can take it, I am going to open the fridge--"   
"At least you're in a good mood. Good to see for a change."   
"Ya. After a while you kinda learn to live with it. " her voice now had a tinge of sadness to it. "I should have never expected as much as I did. Best way to get hurt. Don't I know it."   
Piper put an arm around her sister. "You know, we've all been there. We love, we hurt, and we move on."   
Phoebe nodded. "It's the moving on part that gets ya in the end. If you find an easy way of doing it, let me know."   
Piper managed a smile. "If I knew how to do that, well, hell. Before Leo, my track record wasn't that stellar anyway."   
"It's going to take a long, long time."   
"You never really forget, I guess. Not if you really love somebody."   
Phoebe shook her head, "I always wanted to believe in Cole, you know?"   
"I know. We always want to believe that things are the way we want them to be. We always want to give them another chance. All that happens is we kid ourselves in the end. I don't know what to tell you, other than pain is part of the loving process. If you never cared, you'd never hurt. And if you never hurt, you've never loved. If you've never loved, you've never lived. I know that sounds like bad poetry, but it's the truth."   
"I'd still like to skip the pain part, if it's all the same to you." Phoebe looked at the card in her sister's hand. "What is that, anyway. Looks like a green driver's license."   
"It's a military ID card. Found it in P3 this morning. I meant to put it in the mailbox, but it slipped my mind."   
"You're getting old, sis. Memory is the first thing to go. Here," she said taking the card from Piper's hand. "I'm heading out in a few. I'll take care of it for ya."   
"Thanks..."   
"Don't mention it. What are pesky little sisters for?"   


Phoebe looked at the card and a chill ran up her spine. It felt like an invisible hand made of ice had ran a finger right down her back. Her vision began to fade, the room began to spin. She staggered back, trying to grab on to something that would prevent her from falling. Piper was moving towards her, mouthing something she could not hear.   
A man appeared in front of her, staggering and falling to the floor. He was in pain, doubled over, holding his abdomen. The dying man looked up in her direction, not seeing her. His eyes were filled not with physical pain, but with an intense sadness that gripped her soul. Then as quickly as he'd appeared, he was gone.   


"PHEOBE!"   
Phoebe managed to stand upright, steadying herself on a chair. "A premonition. Bad one."   
"_Are there ever good ones?_"   
"I saw a guy, I think it's the same guy on the ID card. He was on the floor...in pain. But the look on his face...God, it was sad. _So sad_." She looked Piper in the eyes, "_I could almost feel it, you know?_"   
"Like you really need that now, sis."   
Phoebe looked at the name on the card. LATTIMER, TIMOTHY B. MAJ, US ARMY   
Whoever this Major Lattimer was, he was in danger. If he wasn't now, it was a sure bet that he would be soon.   
  
  


Camp Parks was a dreary Reserve Forces training base located in Dublin, California. In the morning hours, a cool ocean breeze gave one the mistaken impression of a somewhat temperate day. By midafternoon, the base became a sweltering inferno. It seemed to have a climate all it's own, separate and distinct from the civilized community surrounding it.   
A half-mile away from the main gate stood a large elaborate building; an anachronism amongst the rotting and dilapidated WWII barracks that made up a good number of the structures on the installation. A sign above the swinging glass doors marking the entrance to the facility read, "1st Brigade BCST Battle Projection Center Death by Simulations."   
Wars of grand scale were fought in the building on a regular basis. Armies were obliterated, cities destroyed, and millions sent to their deaths. Not a tear was shed, nor a drop of blood spilled, for these grand spectacles were fought on computer screens and sprawling paper maps. There were no victors, and no vanquished for the outcome of these brutal campaigns were carefully scripted. Every drop of fuel expended and every round fired was meticulously tracked by a multi-million dollar computer that would supply the fictitious war machines, orchestrate their battles and in the end, count their dead.   
Inside the building, uniformed bodies sought refuge from the one-hundred-plus degree weather. Some feigned heavy involvement in various tasks to escape the scrutiny of the officers who were notorious for grabbing idle bodies and assigning them details usually involving exposure to the extreme heat. Major Tim Lattimer knew who the slackers were, but he didn't care. His mind was whirring over a thousand different details, which served as a diversion keeping him from dwelling on what was really his main concern. _ Her name was Bernadette, the bane of his existence._   
Most of the time, despite his most resilient efforts, he could not help but think about her. Every time he closed his eyes, her face was there, looking at him. He'd run the gamut of emotions from sorrow, anger, and finally despair.   
"What's up boss?" A hand landed on his shoulder.   
"Hey there, Elden, " Tim managed. The man standing before him was Major Elden Stoik, his best friend. Tim had been there for him during Elden's divorce, and now his friend was returning the favor.   
"Smoke break? Yes?" Stoik held out a pack of non-filtered Camels in front of Lattimer.   
"Sounds like a plan, buddy."   
The two men walked down the hallway and outside into the small smoking area. The heat was oppressive even under the shaded area underneath the overhang.   
Tim took a cigarette, lit it, and handed the lighter back to Elden.   
"So let me guess. Bernie again? "   
"Mmmm, " Tim said as he took a deep drag.   
"I can see it in your face, Tim. You really need to let her go. She's brigin' ya down"   
"She's already brought me down, my friend. Several times."   
"Did she have the baby yet?"   
"She did. Last night around nine, from what her mom told me."   
"Christ, Tim."   
"She's with another guy, so why should I care?" Tim waved the cigarette in the air and answered his own question before Elden could speak, "I care because I just do. I'm a soft headed flippin' fool."   
"You are a damn good dude, Tim. You know that."   
"That shithead doesn't even have a job. How's he expect to take care of her and a baby on top of that?"   
"Not your problem anymore, boss. She's made her choice, and it wasn't you. She's had a baby by him, that should cinch it for ya. _You need to let go. And stop giving her money_."   
"Did you know they found drugs in the baby's system? "   
"Christ, Tim. _ She was shooting up when she was pregnant?_"   
"Hell, I don't know what she was doing. I stayed away as much as I could."   
"It isn't easy watching someone you love kill themselves like that. I've been there too."   
"I remember that, Elden. I remember."   
The conversation was getting heavy, and Tim didn't like it. Talking about it didn't help, in fact it made it worse. He had to change the subject.   
"You know, last night I lost my friggin' ID card."   
"I think you left it at that bar."   
Tim couldn't help but smile. Somebody actually carded him. In his ecstasy about having been mistaken for someone half his age, he'd happily placed his ID on the counter. More than likely, he'd forgotten it there.   
"Do you remember the name of that bar?" Tim asked hopefully.   
"Yeah...It's called P3. Weird name, but I loved the place."   
"That makes two of us."   
"Do you remember how we got there?"   
Elden took a drag of his cigarette, "Man, buddy, I'd be lost. I don't know how in the hell we found it in the first place."   
"By accident," Tim shook his head. They'd driven for at least three hours. Elden driving while Tim had a map unfolded across his half of the car like some bizarre tapestry. Lattimer, equipped with a flashlight and magnifying glass, continued to feed Elden one wrong direction after another until they were utterly and hopelessly lost. They saw the bar, and decided to stop for a rest and a few drinks, and ended up staying until closing time. He'd honestly enjoyed himself. It had been the first time in a long time that he actually had fun.   
"Hell, it was worth a damn ID card. I had a flippin' blast last night." It was a pain in the ass, Lattimer thought. But he could get another ID card in a day or so.   
"Kinda would like to be able to find that bar again, " Elden said dousing the remains of his smoke.   
"Roger that, my friend. We're gonna be too ragged by the end of shift tonight. Looks like were on 'till ENDEX, which is about twelve midnight."   
_ Hell._   
Lattimer threw his cigarette butt into a rusty water-filled coffee can sitting on a concrete bench.   
  
  


Phoebe cast a locating spell. She had a large map covering most of the table, swinging an amulet in a pendulous motion over it. Sometimes you got results pretty quick, othertimes you didn't. There weren't many hard and fast rules with this. Patience and experience. Sometimes, even that didn't help.   
"You think he might be local, or just passing through?" Phoebe asked no one in particular.   
"He must have been at P3 last night. What's the closest Army base from here, Presidio?"   
"Not likely, " Piper offered. "Presidio's been closed for some time."   
Phoebe put a finger on the map. "Right here, I'm pretty sure. Camp Parks."   
Piper leaned over the map and looked for a moment. "From what I can tell, that's the closest one to here, " then she added "What do you make out of that premonition?"   
"Don't know. All I saw was this guy. He wasn't in uniform, though. He was on the ground, like he'd been shot or something. But his face," she looked up at Piper, her expression filled with emotion, "His face was so sad, _so sad that I could feel it_"   
"So what do we tell him? When we find him, I mean." Piper wondered.   
Prue put a hand on Phoebe's shoulder, and looked at the map, "We will have to cross that bridge when we come to it. I know that was not terribly original, but it is appropriate."   
Just then, Leo appeared in a blue flash, startling Phoebe and Piper. Prue was still looking at the map, paying no attention to his sudden entrance. Leo waited while the two girls remonstrated with him about his unannounced orbing. What he had to say was very important, and he needed their complete attention.   
"Listen, I have something here."   
"We're all ears, Leo." Prue said, still studying the map.   
"Major Lattimer is stationed at Camp Parks."   
"Now, he tells us, " Phoebe grumbled to herself.   
Leo paid her no attention, "He was with the Army Space Program until an accident about a year ago. Then the Army transferred him to the 52nd Division at Parks. They don't say it, but the Army blames him for the accident. On top of that, he's dealing with a bad breakup with an old girlfriend. Seem's like she had a baby when he was away, and the baby wasn't his. And that's part of what caused the accident that ended his involvement with the Space Program."   
"_And I thought I had problems_," Phoebe joked.   
"Hold on. The best part is coming," Leo paused while he looked at the three girls. Their attention was on him. Then, he finished. "Tim Lattimer is a warlock. He doesn't know it yet."   
  
  


__

She watched and waited, the anticipation building within her. The night was cold, but she did not feel it. The cold and the dark were her ally, for her power came from darkness, and coldness was her nature. She watched the soldiers as they scurried in and out of the large building. The structure was a testament to the feeble arrogance of mortals. It provided them with a feeling of security that was both misplaced and misguided, for she knew she could crumble it with one wave of her hand.   
_ The mortals were of no consequence, for there was only one of them that interested her. The man she waited for was not an ordinary man. He was a warlock. He was not aware of this fact, and that would make it much easier for her to tap his untested and untried power. She would nurture it until it was ready to wreak the destruction that would bring a certain horrible death to the Charmed Ones..._   
  


The Simulations Excersise was nearing its final hours, and Timothy Lattimer was fighting to stay awake. He'd been on duty for nearly eighteen hours without rest. It wouldn't have been so bad, but this had been a slow excersise Painfully slow. Lattimer watched one of the screens displaying an aircraft icon moving northward in short jerky motions. _The graphics suck on top of everything else_, Tim thought. For the amount of money the Government had spent on this system, you'd think they could at least have an icon that looked like a jet instead of a winged pencil.   
The British Air Force officer beside him quietly read the printouts, then traced his finger across the screen from the aircraft icon to it's target. "This is all real-time, correct sir?"   
"Yeah. Pretty much." At this point, Tim didn't care. He wanted the excersise to end so that he could get some sleep. It wouldn't matter, he thought. He'd lay down in bed, but sleep would never come. Lately, that had been the way it was. Too much on his mind, these days.   
The RAF officer wasn't satisfied with Major Latter's sleepy reply. He signaled one of the civilian technicians passing by their cubicle. "Excuse me, sir. I have a question or two for you, if you don't mind."   
Lattimer looked over his shoulder to see the man that the RAF officer had called.   
It was Jerry Barton, for Christ sake.   
Tim cringed. Jerry was the one man that everyone avoided. The British pilot was going to find out why pretty damn quick.   
The extremely large man broke into a wide grin, excitedly entering the cubicle, knocking books and piles of paper to the floor. He stopped nearly inches from the pilot's face and began speaking. When the Englishman stepped backward, Barton stepped forward, totally clueless. "This here. " Jerry said pointing to the console in front of Lattimer, "is what ya call HICON. It means higher control. From here, ya control everything in the SIMMs. And I mean everything..."   
Jerry proceeded to tell the young RAF pilot every nuance of every piece of equipment in the cubicle. As Jerry spoke, the Englishman began to realize he'd made a mistake. Tim could read the kid's face, and knew exactly what was going through his mind. Barton wasn't a bad guy, just damn annoying. Once you got Jerry talking, nothing save a natural or man-made disaster would stop him. Like the flu, it had to run its course. But Tim felt sorry for the kid, and decided to spare him from Barton's assault.   
"Hey Jerry, isn't your shift over? I don't think they're going to pay you overtime. Besides, you really don't look like your feeling too good..." This always worked with Jerry, for he was a hypochondriac of the first degree who never missed an opportunity to leave work early when any given malady made itself known.   
Barton wheeled his massive body around to face Tim. "Ya know, Major, I really ain't been feeling good. It shows does it? Yeah, I kinda thought it did. I have the rhoids real bad this time. In fact, I lost my cushion. Cain't find it nowhere. I damn busted my other one..."   
"Rhoids" Tim was puzzled. Out of Barton's repertoire of illnesses, this was a new one.   
"Yeah, hemorrhoids. It's when your---"   
"Jerry, " Tim cut him off, "I got the picture."   
"Yes. My aunt in Lincolnshire had a similar condition, " the young English pilot ventured. "She--"   
Lattimer shot a warning glance to the Englishman. "Don't get him going, Lancaster..."   
"And it ain't just the rhoids, " Barton complained, oblivious to the looks he was getting. " I ain't been regular in a week. I think it's the cheese. That stuff plugs me up like a cork."   
"Jerry, " Lattimer said forcing a concerned tone. "you need to get out of here, and get home. I'll let Mr. Martini know you were sick, OK? I got ya covered."   
:Jerry smiled happily. "I'll pick up my prune-juice out of the break room, and I'm gone."   
Lattimer watched the four hundred-pound man waltz out of the cubicle with the grace of a Giselle. When Jerry was out of earshot, he said "Jerry's one of a kind. Or at least, we hope he is."   
  
  


__

Time meant nothing to her, for she had it in abundance. Her exotic, dark eyes lay fixed upon the large building, for within it was the One. She would place herself where she would be visible to him. A toss of the head, or the batting of an eye would garner his notice. A mere smile would snare him like a hungry animal , for Lattimer was a man starved for affections he could never find. It would not be difficult, not in the least.   
_ At the appropriate moment, she would spring the trap, drawing Lattimer into her lair. She would tell him the lies he'd always wanted to hear, and deny the truth from which he'd always fled. He was her key to the Book of Shadows, and the destruction of the Halliwell sisters._   
_ With that accomplished, she would be unstoppable, and would dispose of Lattimer as she saw fit. If he served her well, she would consider consigning him to a relatively painless death._   
_ Then something startled her. Footsteps. Heavy footsteps._   
_ A large figure exited the building, proceeding to walk in her direction._   


__

Jerry Barton walked as fast as he could into the parking lot. It was a cinch someone would see him, and call him back. What did they care about an old man's rhoids? Damn painful, they were. And if you never had 'em, you never appreciated the pain they gave you, 'cause they hurt like the dickens. As he walked, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.   
It looked like a young lady. She was hard to see at first, because she was dressed in a long black dress. Jerry squinted in her direction, adjusting his spectacles. _Damn pretty little thing_, he thought. It didn't seem right that she had to wait outside alone. Jerry figured it wouldn't hurt to try talking to her.   
"Hey, there !, " he yelled. The lady didn't seem to pay any attention. Strangely enough, this attracted Barton, who considered being ignored a bigger challenge than climbing the Rocky Mountains. If she wasn't going to pay him any mind, then Jerry was going to make sure that he damn well got noticed.   
"Hey... you waiting on somebody?"   
She still didn't say anything. _Weird gal_,. he thought.   
She looked Oriental, Jerry thought. Korean, most likely. He'd spent a lot of time in Seoul when he was stationed there damn near twenty years ago. "If you don't mind me asking... are you Korean or Japanese? If I was to put money on it, I'd say you was Korean. Are you Korean? Cause you sure look Korean..."   
She shot an annoyed look at Jerry, then back to the building.   
  


The cretin was certainly persistent, she thought as anger and revulsion built up within her. Silence did not seem to help, but rather it exhaserbated the situation. Perhaps if she acknowledged the fool's presence, he would leave.   
"I am waiting for a friend, " she said coldly.   
The cretin took no hint, and began chattering excitedly. Opening her mouth had been a mistake, she realized, for her words had only served to fuel the fire. Speaking to him had been akin to stepping in excrement. One did so unwittingly, and once done, a graceful extrication was difficult, if not impossible.   


"I knew it. I knew you were waiting on someone. I figured that it just ain't right for a young lady to be waiting out here in the cold by herself." Jerry began "I figured I'd keep you company until your friend comes out. Shouldn't be long, now."   
She glared at him. "Leave me now, I have no desire for your company."   
The man looked crestfallen, but gave no sign he that intended to depart. "I didn't mean to be a bother. I know I can be a pest sometimes, but I don't mean to be. I just wanted ---"   
"_I want you to leave now_, " she hissed.   
"You know, " the man continued, "that irritability's a sign of an ailment. And I think I know what's ailin' ya."   
Her anger was rising beyond her ability to control it.   
"I can tell you what's ailing you for certain. Irregularity. That's it," the man said with genuine concern.   
"_This is your final warning. LEAVE NOW!_"   
"Hell, irregularity ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. I get it all the time. And I mean all the time." Then he lowered his spectacles and peered at her, speaking in a low voice as if he were betraying a grave secret. "Between me and you, I think it's the doggoned cheese that does it. It'll plug you up like a cork. The key is prune juice, " he said holding a jar of foul smelling liquid inches from her face. "You see, prune juice is the best medicine when you ain't regular. It'll do ya good, I promise. Just one swig and you'll be sitting on the hopper in no time. You'll feel a lot better, I guarantee it."   
Her body began to visibly tremble with fury, and still the imbecile chattered onwards.   
"If ya see a doctor, he'll prescribe you suppositories. Don't take 'em. My cousin Egbert took 'em. Gave him gas somethin' fierce. You wouldn't believe it. His wife made him stay in the garage, it was so bad. The poor fella was in rare form for damn near a week And would ya believe even after that, he still wasn't regular?"   
She could not even bring herself to utter a sound. No one had ever dared speak to her in such a manner.   
"But you're lucky, " he said pointing a fat finger at her. "At least you ain't got rhoids. Hemorrhoids hurt like the dickens. I've had the rhoids off and on fer ten years now. You're still a young, slender gal. But you just wait. When you get big like me," he said holding his hands the width or her hips, then spreading them outwards, "And don't take this the wrong way, but you look like the kinda gal whose really gonna pack on the pounds...just like my sister. When you get that big, _you will get the rhoids, guar-an-teed."_   
She could stand no more. Rasing a hand, she sent a powerful bolt of energy towards the fool. It flew from her outstretched palm in an electric blue ball. Had she control over her faculties, she would have aimed the orb so that it would have disintegrated him outright. Instead, it bounced off the ground sending the fat man crashing into a parked vehicle, shattering his spine and rupturing his organs. 

Only a small fraction of the discharge hit the man. The remainder penetrated the ground, finding the large power cables that fed into the Battle Projection Center. She watched in horror as the orb arched along the buried cables, creating a large trough in its wake. Within moments, it reached the facility.   
For a moment, all was silent save for the injured man's tortured moans. Then a portion of the building exploded, erupting in flame. The sound of the blast echoed into the night, followed by another explosion.   
_Timothy_, she thought in horror. If harm befell Lattimer, her plan would fail before it had even begun. The Source had been furious over her previous performance, and she dared not think of the consequences should she fail a second time. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to concentrate on Timothy Lattimer...   


The Battle Projection Center was in utter chaos. The first explosion had ripped away the entire east wing, and the second had collapsed a portion of the upper level along with several beams. At least twenty people were trapped topside, and only God knew what shape they were in. It had been useless trying to evacuate the building as soldiers refused to leave while their comrades were either trapped, injured or missing. It was a warrior's creed. _Never leave your own behind_.   
Tim tried several phones, only to find out the lines were dead. The last phone was patched locally through the building, and had a dial tone.   
Lattimer punched in the numbers for the main Sims center. It rang once before a frantic voice answered "Sims... Sergeant Villanueva here."   
"Villy, " Tim said in a hoarse voice. "What's your status?"   
"Ah... we're in a world of shit, sir. Fire in the main computer room. It sealed off automatically, but the halon discharge isn't working. It's gonna have to burn itself out."   
"Casualties?"   
"None here, sir. We lucked out. How about there?"   
"A helluva jolt and some downed beams. No fires, " Lattimer said in a shaky voice. "Listen, Villy... get me Stoik or Hashimoto. Get 'em on the line."   
"I gotta find 'em sir. Might take a few minutes. I'll have Stoik call you."   
"I'm at the HICON station. Have him call me there."   
"Roger, sir. Out here."   
"Out here, " Lattimer said as he hung up the phone.   
Lt. Col. Heary swept by, then stopped and looked at Lattimer, "You okay, Tim?" she asked.   
"I'm fine, ma'am. What the hell happened?"   
"I don't have a clue. I know we've got some hellacious casualties. We've got two UH-60 helos on the way for a dustoff. We're gonna have 'em land on the roof. They've got combat medics on board."   
"How many hurt, do you know?"   
"No idea at all. I can't even venture a guess. We're not getting anything from the crew topside. I'm afraid to think about it."   
"Good God, " Tim said.   
"Tim, I want you to call the downrange sites and brief 'em. Tell 'em not to call because we need all the open lines we have. We don't know if this is an accident or some terrorist attack. This facility is now at THREATCON DELTA. Let 'em know this."   
"Roger that, ma'am. Will do."   
Tim picked up the hot loop, a telephone dedicated to two sites: one in Utah and the other in South Dakota. He spoke in short, clipped tones, enunciating each word with great care, "Attention Site XRAY, Camp Grafton and Site Yankee, Devil's Lake...this is Parks CP. We have an emergency. I say again, we have a real-world emergency. We've got two explosions in the BPC, and one mother of a fire. Cause unknown. We are currently operating under the provisions of THREATCON DELTA on the possibility of terrorist activity. Do not attempt to call us. I say again, do not attempt to call this facility via landlines. Phones needed for emergency use. Please acknowledge, over."   
A crackle came through the earpiece, "_Parks CP,this is Camp Grafton. I read you lima-charley. Acknowledged. Out._"   
This was followed by a second crackle, "_Parks CP, this is Devil's Lake. What the hell's going on? Over."_   
"Devil's Lake, this is Parks CP. Don't know. We'll keep you updated, over."   
"_Godspeed, Camp Parks. Godspeed to all of you. Devil's Lake out._"   
"Parks CP, out."   
The other phone rang with a soft twitter. Tim picked it up in anticipation. It was Sergeant Villanueva, and he sounded as if he'd been crying.   
"Villy, what's up? Did you find Stoik or Hashimoto?"   
"Negative, sir. Negative. We're scared to death they might have been in the Sims center..."   
"_Christ, they are going to die in there! Get those doors open!_"   
"Negative, sir. Fire's still raging in there. We open the doors and we're going to fry the rest of the building---"   
"Listen to me, Villy. You have got to open those doors. Use a torch if you have to. Those men will die in there--"   
"Sir, " Villy said between sobs. "It's hundreds of degrees in there... There is nothing we can do. _They are already dead._"   
"Goddamit, Villy. Those are your friends in there too. _GET THOSE DOORS OPEN NOW!_"   
Villanueva couldn't talk, as he was wracking in uncontrollable sobs. Another voice came on the line, a female voice, full of authority. "Major Lattimer, this is Lieutenant Colonel Heary. _Those doors will remain closed, understand?_ We open them and that fire will get sucked right down the hallway, killing just about everyone else." Then her voice grew softer, "Tim, you have to hang in there. This is a bad situation, and good people die in bad situations..."   
Lattimer could no longer talk. He hung up the receiver as the noise of the inbound MEDEVAC helicopters grew closer.   


_ She sighed with relief, for she knew Lattimer was unharmed. Stupidity, she thought. Utter stupidity. The energy discharge had weakened her, preventing her from blinking herself away._   
_ Her plans would be delayed, regrettably. She dared not risk being seen. Fortunately for her, the ensuing chaos enabled her to watch in relative obscurity. As soon as she was able, she would leave. She would come for Lattimer at a more opportune time..._   


__

Phoebe sat on the couch in her bathrobe, her eyes heavy from lack of sleep. She'd tossed throughout the night. Hellacious dreams, she thought. They weren't premonitions, just the kind of dreams you had when you went to bed with something weighing heavy on your mind. She'd gone to bed last night thinking about the whole Lattimer thing. When she got up, tired and irritable, she made the mistake of turning on the TV. 

__

Bad news. Seriously bad news. 

Something had happened at Camp Parks. Exactly what, she wasn't sure. It didn't seem that anybody knew for certain. The scene kept switching from the reporter to a big building that had been badly burned and damaged. 

_"...today. FBI agents have been working with Army CID in an attempt to determine the cause of this calamity. There is speculation of possible terrorist activity, but this has not yet been confirmed by the Defense Department...."_

__

Piper looked at her younger sister, "You look like hell, kiddo"   
"Thanks, sis. I feel like hell. Would you look at that?" Phoebe said pointing at the TV.   
"I am looking at it. You thing there's a connection between that and Lattimer?"   
"Piper, there has to be. Whatever happened over there was somehow directed at him."   
"Do we know if he's even still alive?" Piper wondered.   
"He's alive but I don't know about well. At least that's what the Elders tell me, " Leo had orbed in behind the couch startling both girls.   
"A little warning would be in order, Leo dear. Damn near gave me a coronary." Piper said holding her chest.   
"OK, I'm here. Is that warning enough?" Leo said impatiently. "From what I've been told, that incident wasn't the work of mortals. The Elder's couldn't get a signature, so they don't know exactly who or what was responsible, or why it was done. They know that the Source is very interested in Tim Lattimer. Time is critical. And I mean _very_ critical."   
"How far is it from here to Camp Parks?" Phoebe asked.   
"You're not thinking about driving over there, Pheebs? It's a good hour drive." Piper was worried. She knew her sister well enough. When Phoebe got an idea in her head, talking her out of it was a feat.   
"We need to get to him before _they_ do."   
"Listen Phoebe. If you are hell bent on going... which I really don't think is a good idea right now, at least let me go with you. You are in no shape to drive, " Piper said while picking the car keys off the table.   
"Guess I don't have a choice, do I?"   
"Piper's right, Phoebe," Leo said in a serious tone. "It's better the two of you go. If you need me, call. I will be there."   
"It kinda just occurred to me, " Piper said scratching her head. "What exactly are we gonna tell this guy when we find him? I mean we really got to make this good. I can just see it now: 'Hi Tim. We're a couple of witches, and we have something to tell you. A demon was responsible for blowing up your building, and the entire Evil Realm is waiting for the right moment to nab you. _Why? Oh, because you're a warlock._.'."   
"Piper, we'll think of something on the way over there. And from the sound of what you said, It's better I do the thinking and you do the driving..."   


The sisters got off of the Hopyard exit from highway 580. At the end of the offramp was a sign pointing to the base. They turned left at the light, proceeding up Daugherty Road. As they got closer to the main gate, it was apparent something of a catastrophic nature had happened.   
A string of at least twenty cars were in line waiting to get on base. Police officers were walking up and down the line of cars, collecting information. License numbers, most likely Phoebe surmised. She rolled down her window as a policeman approached.   
"Excuse me, but can you tell me what's going on?" Phoebe asked in a pleasant tone.   
The officer peered inside the car. He'd been out in the heat for quite some time, as his hatband was soaked. It didn't seem to affect his mood, which was surprisingly jovial. "Ah, we're doing a full check of vehicles entering the base. It's gonna take at least twenty minutes or so. It's something we kinda have to do, after what happened last night."   
"Pretty bad, huh?"   
"Damn weird. Ten dead. Ten that we know of, anyway."   
Phoebe looked concerned, and the cop noticed her look. "Did you know somebody in that building?"   
"Yes, " Phoebe lied. "His name's Timothy Lattimer. Major Timothy Lattimer.. Do you know if he's okay?" This was ridiculous, she thought. The cop would have no way of knowing.   
"I'm not supposed to do this, because we have to notify next-of-kin first. But I know what it's like not knowing. Hang on... I'll run the name and check it. Lattimer, Tom?"   
"No Lattimer, Timothy..."   
"Gotcha. Be right back." The policeman walked briskly towards the main gate and disappeared from sight for a moment.   
Phoebe looked at Piper. "Well, sis, I guess pretty soon we're going to find out if it was all for nothing."   
"Pheebs, " Piper said patiently, "Leo already said he was OK, remember?"   
"I just want to make sure, alright? You never know..."   
A few moments later, the police officer returned. The smile on his face told them everything. "I didn't see that name on any of the casualty lists. Good news. Relax." He walked away before Phoebe could respond.   
  


About thirty minutes later, Phoebe and Piper reached the gate. Two police officers gave the car a cursory once-over, then walked over to the driver's side window. "Where are you ladies heading?"   
"We need to talk to a friend of ours. Major Tim Lattimer. Do you know where we can find him?" Piper answered as politely as she could. Piper was hot and pissed, not really wanting to answer stupid questions.   
"Ah, is he with the 1st Brigade?"   
"Hmmm good question. I'd have to say yes, but not sure."   
"Hokay. Here's what you do. Go down this road, " the cop pointed with a thick finger, "over that hill, and you will see a big two story red building. That's building 500, Brigade Headquarters. You'll see a sign directing you upstairs. The security sergeant will give you a badge. You will need it to get over there, " the cop pointed to a ruined building just north of the gate.   
As they drove towards the headquarters building, Piper joked, "Badges, we don' need no stinkin' badges..."   
"Not funny, sis."   
"Just trying to lighten the mood. Which is pretty thick about now."   
  


There was a large, makeshift sign right outside Building 500 reading : "ATTN VISITORS-- REPORT TO SFC VAUGHN -- 2nd FLOOR-- RM 210" The American flag next to the sign flew forlornly at half mast.   
Phoebe pointed to an empty parking space in a nearby lot. "I guess this is the place.", she said with a foreboding tone.   
"This might be a funny time to bring it up, " Piper began as she stepped out of the car, "but how could this guy not know what he is? How could he _not_ know he's a warlock?"   
Phoebe shook her head as she stared at the large red building. "The only thing I can think of is that they don't want him to know. Why? I have no clue, sis."   
Neither of them said anything more as they walked up the steps, into the building. Once inside, they could feel the somber mood. You could taste it. Silently, they followed the arrows posted in black and went up the stairs to the second floor. They had no trouble finding Vaughn's office.   


Sergeant First Class Vaughn was a small, but compact man of thirty-five or so. His youthful features were betrayed by his eyes. They were the eyes of a man who had seen death along with the many of the unspeakable horrors of war.   
Vaughn was engrossed in the preparation of a SITREP, or Situation Report. Basically, it was a grizzly piece by piece account of what happened, and what remained afterwards. Each time he read the damn thing, it sounded more and more ridiculous. There were gaping holes in the facts nobody could fill. Every Muldoon had his theories, but theories were like spitting in the wind. They hit you right back in the face.   
_Hell._   
A slight rapping on the door.   
Vaughn looked up.   
Another knock, this time a little louder, followed by a soft voice "Hello? Excuse me?"   
"Enter." He said a little too impatiently.   
Two ladies in civilian clothes stepped into his office. One looked like she hadn't slept in ages.   
He forced a smile, stood up and extended his hand ."Can I help you?".   
"Umm yeah. My name is Phoebe, and this is my sister Piper." the tired looking one said, reaching out for his hand. " Ah, we were hoping to see somebody, and you were the one that we were supposed to talk to."   
"Hey, I'd offer you a seat, but I don't have any extras in my sorry excuse for an office," he apologized.   
"No prob, " the other girl said. "We've been sitting on our butts for almost an hour."   
"So, who is it that you would like to see?"   
"Major Timothy Lattimer, " Phoebe said. "Do you know him?"   
Vaughn smiled. He knew Lattimer well.   
"_Hell, yeah. _ He's one a-number-one dude. You here for his retirement thing-a-ma-bob?"   
"Huh?" Both girls said in perfect unison.   
"Yeah, this is his last day. He's retiring. Can't say as I blame him after what happened last night. Kinda caught us all by surprise."   
"What _did_ happen?" Phoebe asked.   
"Wish to hell I could tell ya. Nobody knows for sure. Something caught ahold of the cables going into the Sims room, and then... well, you saw it coming in, didn't you? Freak friggin' accident most likely."   
Vaughn picked up the phone. "I'm gonna give him a buzz, so as he doesn't un-ass the AO before you see him."   
"_Battle Projection Group, Lattimer speaking..._"   
"Sir? There are two young ladies here to see you."   
"_Really. Hell, maybe my luck's a changin'. Do you know them?_"   
"Ah, nossir. Don't know. One's named Phoebe, and the other..." He looked at Piper.   
"Piper. My name is Piper."   
"The other one is named Piper..."   
"_Phoebe...Piper. Sure doesn't ring a bell. Ask 'em their last names..._"   
Vaughn put a hand over the mouthpiece and asked "Last name?"   
"Halliwell", Phoebe said.   
"Piper and Phoebe Halliwell...."   
"_Sisters, hmmm. Doesn't sound like FBI or CID..._"   
"Should I send 'em on over, sir?"   
"_Sure, go ahead. Send 'em on over..._"   
"Kay. Will do, then. Roger."   
"_Take care, buddy..._"   
Vaughn lauged, "I take it any way I can get it, sir."   
"_You friggin' rat bastard. Out._"   
"HUA, sir. Out here."   
"The Major says it's cool, " Vaughn said hanging up the phone. "I need to see your driver's license so I can issue you a badge. You drive to the checkpoint down the road, show the MP's the badge, and proceed to the designated parking area. You can't miss it 'cause it's marked DESIGNATED PARKING AREA" . He smiled, "We in the Army are well known for our originality and creativity. Yeah, I know. Don't give up the day job...."   


Once past the checkpoint, Piper and Phoebe could see the full extent of the damage. One side of the facility had been ripped away, and part of the ceiling looked like it had caved in. All the windows were boarded up, and the entrance was covered in yellow tape. Sentries stood guard just a few feet away.   
After they parked, the girls walked towards the building and stared in disbelief. Then Piper pointed at the ground, "Look, whatever it was that hit that place sure left a trail."   
There were two deep furrows dug into the ground. They were almost fifty feet long and lead directly into the side of the building that had been destroyed.   
"Geez, " Phoebe said, and walked over to where the gouges began. Then she stopped suddenly. For a moment, it looked to Piper as if her sister were in deep thought. Then she began to stumble as if she were drunk.   
"PHEEBS!", Piper screamed, running towards her. One of the MP's watched, and bolted towards them.   
"Ma'am, are you okay? Do you need medical attention?"   
"I'm fine," Phoebe managed. "Really. I'm OK. It's just... well it kinda got to me..."   
"I understand, " the MP said softly. "It gets to all of us. Who are you here to see?"   
"Tim Lattimer..."   
"Major Lattimer is over there in the BPG, not the BPC. It's the building right to your left. The one that's still in one piece., " the MP managed a small smile.   
"Thanks, " Piper said quietly. They watched the MP walk back towards the checkpoint. When he was out of earshot, Phoebe looked at Piper and said, "Sis, I know who did this. You are not gonna believe it."   
"Another premonition?"   
"Kinda. I just saw a face."   
"So keep me in suspense, Pheebs. You know I love a mystery. _Who the hell was it?_"   
"Dantalian"   
Piper gave her sister an incredulous look. "What? We killed her. Didn't we?"   
"That's what I though, sis."   
"You are sure? I mean really sure?"   
"Piper, I am positive. I saw her face clear as day." Phoebe was starting to get irritated.   
"So the Pissed off Priestess is back. And after Lattimer."   
"Sure as hell's beginning to look like it."   
"So why did she KO the building. Bad hair day or what?"   
"I don't have a clues, sis, " Phoebe said as she grabbed Piper's arm and headed towards the other building. "But I do know we need to get ahold of Lattimer before she does..."   
  


Once inside the BPG, they had no trouble finding Lattimer's office. Tim greeted them with a warm smile. Phoebe didn't expect what she saw. He was very thin and fragile looking. This wasn't the look of a warlock at all. The most striking thing about Lattimer was his eyes. They were the deepest shade of blue she'd ever seen, and seemed to exude compassion. One glance at him told her there wasn't an evil bone in his body.   
"Hi, " he said extending his hand. "I'm Tim Lattimer. What can I do for you?"   
Phoebe took his hand. As the long thin fingers grasped her hand, she was almost overwhelmed by a feeling of total and absolute benevolence.   
"I'm Phoebe, and this is my sister Piper..."   
Piper nodded a hello, shaking his hand. One look at Piper told her that she shared her impression of Lattimer.   
"Hold on a sec, " Tim said. He looked over Phoebe's shoulder and called to someone behind her. "Captain Goldstein, could you bring me a couple of---"   
"Chairs?" A voice said before Lattimer could finish.   
"Yeah.. Thanks buddy. Much appreciated."   
Tim pushed the chairs into his office and motioned for the girls to sit.   
"I think this belongs to you, " Phoebe said holding the ID card out to Tim.   
"Man, oh man. My card. I'd forgotten all about the damn thing. I really appreciate this."   
"It was at the club, " Piper said.   
"You were there?"   
"Yeah, " Piper said. "I own the place."   
"You didn't have to come to all the trouble of coming here. I'd have gone over there."   
"No trouble at all, " Piper said with a wave of her hand.   
"I loved the place. Me and my buddy had a hell of a good time."   
"Glad you enjoyed yourself."   
This wasn't going to be easy, Phoebe thought. How do we tell this guy that he is in real trouble? She looked around the office as her eyes settled on a model of the Space Shuttle sitting on a small table.   
Lattimer noticed Phoebe's glance. Turning around, he picked up the model and held it in front of Phoebe and Piper.   
"I flew these things once, believe it or not."   
"You flew the Space Shuttle? You mean you were an astronaut?" Piper asked incredulously.   
"At one time, yeah. I guess that's what you'd have called me back then. Ran into a little trouble up there, " Lattimer said pointing a long thin finger at the sky.   
"Trouble?" Phoebe asked.   
"Yep. Perfect liftoff. Problem was a main engine malf. Malfuction, I mean. Shuttle's got three main engines that light along with the two SRB's. Only one of 'em lit. We jettisoned the SRB's and the external tank. It was enough to get us into a sub-orbital flight, " as Lattimer talked, he maneuvered the model to illustrate his story. "We did a once around abort, and made an emergency landing on Easter Island. Not too many folks know about that. Easter Island's got a runway designed for Shuttle emergency landings. Everything went ok until we touched down. The Shuttle comes in at around two hundred miles an hour. You need to pop a drogue chute to slow you down. And that's what I forgot to do. I was supposed to deploy the chute manually. Kinda slipped my mind. Shuttle ran out of runway. Little bit of damage, there. Nobody was hurt. Except of course my time with the Army Space Program. That was about the only casualty."   
"It wasn't on the news..." Phoebe began.   
"No, the military missions never are. They recovered the Shuttle with no problem. The Army and US Space Command didn't want it hitting the media. Kinda embarrassing, I guess."   
No one spoke for a few moments, then Phoebe began slowly, "Major Lattimer, the ID card isn't the only reason we came here. You need to believe us, but you are in danger here."   
"Danger?"   
"Yes. Danger."   
"What do you mean? Does it have to do with what happened last night?"   
"It might."   
"Good, God. Maybe you need to talk to the FBI about this--"   
"No, we can't do that. What we have to tell you, well, it's going to be real hard to believe..."   
"After what happened last night, I can believe just about anything."   
"We can't talk here. We need for you to come with us. Please, you need to trust us."   
Lattimer was getting nervous, they could tell.   
"I am sorry, but I really can't do that. I've got---"   
Before Lattimer could finish, Piper stood up. "Leo? _Leo come here, we need you now._"   


Tim looked over Piper's shoulder to see if anyone else was coming into the office. He didn't see anyone. These girls were off the scope, he thought. He was afraid of that. There wasn't much you could do when people wacked out on you. And there were two of them, and only one of him.   
"Leo, help us please!" Phoebe said to someone standing right behind him. That was impossible, because there was no way into the office except the front door, and...   
"I'll orb him back to the Manor, " a male voice said.   
Tim wheeled around to see a young man in his early thirties standing near the file cabinet.   
"_How'd you get in here?_"   
"Now, Leo! Do it now!" Piper said emphatically. There was an ominous tone in that voice. Somehow, Tim Lattimer knew from this moment on, his life and his perception of reality would be changed forever.   
A moment later his office vanished from around him, and the universe seemed to turn inside out.   


"Okay, " Piper said. "We need to get out of here as quickly and as calmly as possible. We turn in the badge and split."   
Just then, Goldstein poked his head in Lattimer's office. "The Major's left already?"   
"Uh yeah. He was--" Piper began   
"Yeah, I know. He was in a hurry to get out of here. Can't say I blame him." Goldstein surveyed the office. "He told us he wasn't even going to pack his stuff. He didn't want any memory of this place. He told me I could have whatever he left. Don't know that I want any of it, " the young soldier said sadly. "He's one of the best people I've ever met. I hope he has a better life on the outside. He sure went through hell here."   
"I sure hope so too, " Phoebe said. The girls looked at one another. It was a look that spoke volumes. Whatever problems Tim experienced, they were nothing compared to what he would face if they didn't help him.   
It would be nearly an hour before they reached the Manor. They hoped that all would be well when they got there.   
  


The house looked like a mansion.   
Tim wasn't sure how big it was because he never saw the outside of it. A moment ago, he was in his office, and how he was in this big, strange house. Glancing at a small clock on a table, he realized that hardly a minute had passed since he left the base. He had no idea where he was, nor what would happen to him now.   
The young man who'd brought him here began arguing with a woman. Tim wasn't sure what they were talking about, but he was quite sure the woman didn't want him in the house. They spoke quietly, but sharply. Even if Tim could hear them, he was in such a state of shock that very little of anything would have made any sense at all.   
"I'm dreaming, right?" He asked to no one in particular.   


Prue was pissed.   
"Why didn't anybody tell me about this?"   
"Prue, we didn't have all that much time. We had to do something..."   
"Ya, like kidnapping him? Smart move. After what's happened at that base it's a cinch they'll be looking for him."   
"What were we supposed to to? We couldn't have let _them_ have him."   
"Damn, Leo. I know. It's just that I wish I'd known about this. What exactly did you tell him?"   
"Nothing. I just brought him here. From the looks he's been giving us, it seems like the girls didn't tell him anything either."   
"They should have at least prepared him. _At least_." She shot a glance at Lattimer, who asked if he was dreaming again.   
_ What a damn mess_   
"Where's Phoebe and Piper?" she asked Leo.   
"On their way back from the base."   
"Don't mind me, Leo. My nerves are shot to hell, right now. We need to think about what we're going to do with him now."   


They seemed to have calmed down somewhat, Lattimer thought.   
Very cautiously, Lattimer approached them. They didn't seem to take notice of him.   
"I'm dreaming, right? Tell me. Am I dreaming?"   
The young man turned for a moment, motioning for Tim to sit down.   
"I know I'm dreaming..."   
The woman looked sharply in his direction. "I swear, Leo, I don't need this right now. If he asks if he's dreaming one more time, _I am going to strangle him!_" She held her hands out, clawlike in Lattimer's direction.   
"Prue, please calm down, " Leo turned to Tim and said, "Please, sit down, OK?"   
Tim sat, looking at them.   
Prue kept saying that they needed to figure out what to Do With Him. Whatever the Doing part was, Tim was certain it would be quite unpleasant.   
Leo kept saying that everything was going to be fine and not to worry.   
This only made Tim worry more.   
"I must be dreaming. This isn't happening. _I'm dreaming, right?_" Tim blurted before thinking.   
He'd known he'd made a serious mistake the moment he'd opened his mouth. It had accidentally slipped out. And now Prue was looking at him with malice in her eyes. She began to say something when Leo moved her away gently. As she stepped backwards, her glare never left Tim's eyes, waiting for him to ask the fatal question again. Lattimer knew he wouldn't be so lucky next time. He vowed to keep his mouth shut.   
Leo and Prue might have been orchestrating their act in order to keep him off balance, Tim thought. Their good-cop, bad cop routine was one of the oldest prisoner interrogation methods ever devised. It was designed to make him deathly afraid of Prue, relying on Leo for protection. Once that happened, Leo would draw whatever information he liked from Lattimer.   
Were they terrorists? Who knew. Tim was sure he didn't want to stick around long enough to find out. Whatever clever gimmickry they used had its intended effect. Tim Lattimer was disoriented and scared to death.   
More than likely, the two girls had cold cocked him in his office and brought him to the house. They made sure the clocks read the same as they had in his office to make it appear he'd made an instant magical trip. But why? What use could they have of him? Ransom?   
_Like Hell._   
Tim leaped out of the chair, making a mad dash down the little corridor that led to the front door. He heard Prue scream at Leo, then at him. The next thing Tim Lattimer knew, he was flying. He crashed into the closed door and fell to the floor. Leo grabbed him and helped him to his feet, walking him back into the living room..   
"Tim, please. You can't--"   
Lattimer wrested free of Leo and scrambled once more towards the door. This time Prue intercepted him and gave him a solid kick to the midsection. This sent Lattimer flying into the sofa.   
  


Kicking Lattimer had been like kicking a scarecrow. He was damn thin and frail. She'd hit him a little harder than she'd meant to. As she walked over to him, Tim scrambled desperately to get away from her.   
"I just wanted to make sure you are okay, " she said worriedly. "I didn't mean to kick you that hard... it's just that we can't have you taking off like that. _Are you okay?_"   
"To be quite honest with you, I was feeling a lot better before..."   


Then something happened.   
A dark form appeared in the center of the living room. It seemed to come straight out of the floor.   
It was a woman, dressed in a long, black robe. She beckoned insistently at Lattimer, and spoke with a very worried tone.   
"_COME WITH ME! YOU ARE IN DANGER HERE! THEY MEAN TO KILL YOU!_"   
To Tim, she looked almost like an old school marm. Her black robe extended down to her feet, and her black hair piled up behind her head in a bun. She held out her right hand and shouted, "_PLEASE! TAKE MY HAND NOW!_"   


_Dantalian._   
This was a shock.   
Prue still remembered the incident with her and the warlock Zile over a year ago.   
Evidently, they hadn't succeeded in killing her.   
Prue had recovered enough from her surprise to react. She sent a table flying in Dantalian's direction causing her to duck as it shattered against a wall. A chair flying at high velocity caught Dantalian in the stomach, slamming her into the same wall as the table only moments before. Something must have drained her energy, Prue thought. She wasn't putting up much of a fight.   
Moving in pain, Dantalian called out to Lattimer again, "_TAKE MY HAND BEFORE THEY KILL US BOTH!_"   
  


Tim wasn't going to wait for a second invitation. Ignoring the pain in his stomach and back, he bolted to where the strange lady in black lay. As he approached her, she stood up. All manner of objects began to fly from multiple directions. Prue was screaming something at the woman, and Leo was shouting at Prue. A clock bounced off Latimer's head with a thunk.   
Then he grasped the woman's hand.   
Lattimer felt the way he'd felt when the Shuttle had completed its main burn sequence. When the engines shut off, and you felt like you were falling. And he was feeling like that now.   
_Falling._   
Time seemed to stop, bend and turn in on itself. Reality began to distort drastically as the bottom fell out of the universe.   
Then he was gone.   


"Don't say a word, OK? I don't need to hear an I-told-ya-so."   
"Hokay, Leo. I won't say _I told you so_. It doesn't make any difference now anyway, does it?" Prue said, arms folded, looking squarely at Leo.   
"No, I suppose it doesn't"   
"The only thing we can do now is sit tight and wait. Something tells me that she'll be back. I don't think she's done with us yet."   
"I get the same feeling." Leo said slowly.   


The normal universe had ceased to exist, and the laws of physics had taken a vacation.   
If your shuttle took a high-v rock in orbit, chances are you'd never know it. You'd get ripped apart in the explosive decompression. If your suit popped a seal during an EVA, you'd die within moments, venting precious air and heat into space. If you re-entered at the wrong angle after a de-orbit burn, you'd fry to cinders in a matter of minutes.   
These were the hazards of spaceflight, Tim Lattimer knew. You trained for some of them. Others, you hoped would never happen, because there was precious little you could do if they did.   
As terrifying as the hazards were, they made sense.   
This made no sense at all.   
Tim found himself sitting in what looked to be an old abandoned church. The strange woman who'd rescued him was puttering behind an altar, her face hidden behind a large hood.   
_Great, I've died and gone to hell._   
She seemed to take no notice of him at all. Could she have forgotten he was here? Tim didn't think that was likely seeing as she'd damn near risked her life to get him away from those crazies in the big house.   
His nerves were frayed, and his anxiety level was rising. He remembered the words to an old Neil Young song   
_"And when you're gone, ya can't come back..._   
_ Out of the Blue and into the Black..."_   
Reaching into a pocket of his uniform pants, he produced a pack of cigarettes. Luckily, he still had a few left. With a shaking hand, he managed to light one. He had time to take one long drag before the strange woman glided over to him.   
Without a word, she plucked the cigarette from his hand. She held it up for a moment. It extinguished itself then vanished completely.   
_Great, hell's a friggin' Smoke-Free Zone._   
_ "_I don't know your name, and I really don't mean to sound ungrateful... But I really wish you'd say something. I'm really getting nervous over here." Tim didn't know the effect his words would have. He steeled himself, hoping for the best.   
The woman pulled the hood from her head, revealing a strikingly beautiful face. This was the first time he really had a chance to get a good look at her. Her features were very smooth, and the eyes were breathtaking.   
_They seemed to smile._   
"And what would you have me say, Timothy Lattimer?"   
"You know my name?" It was a stupid thing to say, Tim knew.   
"I know quite a bit about you." Her voice was soft, yet authoritative. It was melodic and elegant, with each word enunciated with exactness and clarity. Her mouth moved deliberately as she spoke, forming each word with precision. "I can tell you that you were very fortunate that I found you. Needless to say, you were in grave danger."   
"Yeah, " Tim sighed, "I kinda gathered that. Can you tell me who those people are? What did they want from me?"   
"They are an evil coven of witches. They are known as the Charmed Ones." She paused, letting the words sink in. "You do not believe in witches, do you Timothy?" _The eyes were smiling again_.   
"No. At least I didn't used to. But now, hell. I don't know what to believe..."   
"Know this. You are very special. You are no ordinary mortal, my dear Timothy. You are a warlock. You had no idea that you were adopted, I suppose. But this is of no consequence at the moment. What is important is that you have powers. Untested, and underdeveloped, but they exist in you none the less." As she spoke, she ran her index finger playfully along his lips.   
"I think you may have the wrong man."   
"No mistake, dear Timothy. It is you that they seek. It is you that I shall protect."   
He really didn't buy the warlock bit. But since _she_ seemed to believe it, he figured it was best not to press the issue.   
"How dangerous are they, really? They didn't look like they were that dangerous from--"   
She cut him off with a finger to the lips. Now, the eyes were no longer smiling. They were baleful, angry and filled with hatred.   
"Judge not by appearances. Neither they by theirs, nor I by mine. Would you like evidence of their treachery? Come, " she said, motioning for Tim to stand. "Behold. Look at what they have done to me."   
She held out her left hand. It was covered in a black, satin glove. "Remove it, " she said.   
Tim thought she meant for him to remove the glove. He struggled with it for several moments, when to his horror, the entire hand came off. The glove was merely a prosthetic device.   
The stump of the wrist was badly scarred. He'd seen this type of thing before. They were the scars you'd see when flesh was exposed to cryogenic temperatures. Tim remembered a soldier in Korea who'd lost a couple of fingers when they froze onto the gun-barrel of a tank in the dead of winter. Shattered like glass. He surmised something similar must have happened to her. From the looks of the wound, she'd gotten little or no medical attention. She must be one tough woman to have survived that.   
Tim looked at her face. It was expressionless save the fury in those exotic and beautiful eyes. She was perfect in every way, Tim thought. Perfect save for the hideous scars she sought to hide with a black glove. The ones who did this to her were capable of anything, Tim though.   
_They were animals_.   


She looked at Tim while he examined the stump. She could not bear to make herself look at it. It was a remainder of failure and unforgivable carelessness. The Source, livid over her failure had condemned to remain mutilated for the remainder of her existence.   
She remembered standing before the embodiment of Evil, head bowed, arm throbbing in excruciating pain. The Source's voice rattled every fiber of her being. "_Does the phrase Fucked-Up apply in this case, Dantalian?_" She cringed every time she recalled those words.   
Tim's touch was gentle, very gentle. She was overwhelmed with his compassion. It sapped her strength and filled her with revulsion. Was this pity he felt? Pity for her? The very thought was repugnant.   
She pulled away, taking the gloved hand away from him and anchoring it back in place.   
"Why would they do such a thing? Why'd they do that to you?" Tim's words were mixed with concern and something else.   
_Anger._   
_ Yes. This may prove useful after all._   
"Listen carefully, Timothy Lattimer. I will tell you..."   
She told him of the Book of Shadows, and how they tortured her in order to obtain it. She told him of the Book, it's power, and the danger it held while in their possession. When she finished, she studied Tim's face. Concern. Fear. And of course, _Anger._

Tim began to feel something he hadn't felt in a long, long while. Not since he'd first met Bernadette nearly ten years ago. He was drawn to the strange woman's beauty and her strength. _ Another roller coaster ride_, he thought. It was always like that. Every time. It was always the same. He'd made terrible choices in women. Somehow, he knew this would be different. Very different.   
The stakes were much higher than a broken heart.   
And that terrified him.   


Phoebe was angry and exhausted. The whole day had been a mess. After all the trouble they'd gone through to get Lattimer, now he was gone. They might just as well have well _handed_ him over to Dantalian. She dressed herself in her pajamas, and got ready for bed.   
"Phoebe?" A voice called to her from a dark corner. It was a male voice. _Cole_.   
"My God, Cole, what are you doing here?"   
"Shhh" he said, putting a finger to his lips. "I don't want anyone else knowing I'm here."   
"_Fine... but what are you doing here?_"   
"I know I'm the last person you want to see right now. I understand that, and I don't blame you. But I need to talk to you. _This is damned important..._"   
"There's not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I wish I was stronger than that."   
"Phoebe, with what's going on, you are going to have to be strong."   
"What do you mean?" Cole wasn't joking. This wasn't a social visit, she could tell that by the sound of his voice.   
"That Warlock is a lot more dangerous than you think. Especially now."   
"Lattimer?"   
"Yes, " Cole said flatly. "Lattimer."   
"How could that poor guy possibly be dangerous."   
"Dantalian has him now."   
Phoebe sighed. "I'm afraid you're a day late and a dollar short. I know that already."   
"I'm afraid you don't, Phoebe. When I say she has him, I mean _she really has him_." Cole paused for a moment, then added "He's falling in love with her."   
"WHAT?" Phoebe exclaimed. This was damn ridiculous.   
"Shhh, please Phoebe. I'm dead serious. She's convinced him that you and your sisters are trying to kill her."   
"Well, she's got that right. We are."   
"That's not what I meant. He thinks that you're evil, and that you mean to kill him too. He believes the Book of Shadows was stolen from her, and that you tortured her to get it. And she's got some pretty hard physical evidence to show him. I think you know what I mean."   
"Yes," Phoebe sighed. "I know what you mean. And I'll damn well bet she didn't tell him the whole story."   
"Like I said, she's got him."   
"How did she manage that? A spell? What?"   
"No. He's a lonely and mixed up guy. He fell for her all on his own. I don't think that was in her original plan. But it seemed to work in her favor. No spell, Phoebe. This one came straight from the heart. And you know how powerful that is."   
Phoebe was silent. She knew better than anyone about the power of the human heart. It made you do things. Stupid things. Things you'd never do otherwise. Love was blind, and that was a fact she could never dispute. After a few more moments of silence, she looked at Cole and asked "Can I ask how you know all this?"   
"You can ask, Phoebe. But I can't tell you. Let's just say the Brotherhood is very interested."   
"And you are taking a big risk talking to me, right?" Phoebe asked suspiciously.   
"Yes. A big one."   
Phoebe sat down on the bed with another deep sigh. "The sad thing is that I know what he's feeling. Love messes with your head alright. I know that for a fact. I know what it's like giving your heart to someone who isn't at all what you thought."   
Cole sat next to Phoebe. For a moment he considered putting an arm around her, then changed his mind. "I suppose I deserved that. I wish I had something clever to say, but I don't."   
"I know. I wish I did too. I'm still hoping that things will change."   
"It's going to take time, Phoebe. But right now, time's not on our side. Something needs to be done."   
"We're open to suggestions, Cole. What did you have in mind?" Phoebe's voice was small and frightened.   
"If Dantalian manages to convert Lattimer, I guarantee you he will be just as evil as he is good right now. That means he'll be an even bigger threat than Dantalian. She knows this. You see, if he turns evil then there's the question of how he'll feel about her then. He'll know she only wanted to use him. That makes him a major threat in her book. And he's just as dangerous if he's good. He'll be an instrumentality of evil with the best of intentions. Now that even scares me. What it means for you and your sisters is that he will be able to get the Book of Shadows."   
"So what you're saying is that either way were screwed."   
"Not unless you act fast. I know for a fact Dantalian's going to make contact with you. You and Prue to be exact. She's crazy with thoughts of revenge, which gives you an advantage. When she makes her move, you need to make yours. And fast."   
"And do what, exactly?"   
"_You have got to kill Timothy Lattimer._"   
  
  


The dream was haunting, deep and dark.   
Tim Lattimer couldn't wake up.   
And he wanted to wake up desperately. 

Tim found himself wandering through the Battle Projection Center, stepping lightly as one is prone to do in dreams. He could hear voices calling to him, becoming him to join them. He recognized the voices, as he'd known them for years. They were his friends.   
They were also dead.   
In side the devastated Sims Center, a party was in progress. They were all there, Tim saw. Elden Stoik, Kevin Hashimoto, John Steen and Larry Smith. They were burned and horribly disfigured as men who died in horrible accidents usually were.   
"Welcome, Timmer. Hey, welcome..." Elden exclaimed, extending a charred hand. His words were distorted because he had no lips.   
Hashimoto grabbed an accordion, and began playing an old tune. Then they began to sing in a blood curdling, horrific chorus. The song was in the tune to the old Irish ballad, _Finnegan's Wake_

__

Tim Lattimer lived in Walkin' Street   
_ A gentleman, Irish, mighty odd;_   
_ He had a brogue both rich and sweet_   
_And to rise in the world he carried a hod._   
_Now Tim had a sort of the tipplin' way_   
_With a love of the whiskey he was born_   
_And to help him on with his work each day_   
_He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn._

__

The dead men began to dance wildly, skipping in a grizzly procession. 

__

Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner   
_Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;_   
_Wasn't it the truth I told you_   
_Lots of fun at Lattimer's wake!_

__

More dead men began to stumble into the room, some hobbling, others crawling on horribly mangled limbs. Tim knew them all; Shaun Weston, Bobby Santella, Lorin Monkewicz and Todd McEuen. 

__

One mornin' Tim was feelin' full   
_His head was heavy which made him shake;_   
_He fell from the ladder and broke his skull_   
_And they carried him home his corpse to wake._   
_They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet_   
_And laid him out upon the bed,_   
_A gallon of whiskey at his feet_   
_And a barrel of porter at his head._

__

Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner   
_Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;_   
_Wasn't it the truth I told you_   
_Lots of fun at Lattimer's wake!_

The dancing reached a fever pitch as the dead men stumbled about a long table filled with decaying food and foul smelling wine. 

__

His friends assembled at the wake   
_And Mrs. Lattimer called for lunch,_   
_First they brought in tay and cake_   
_Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch._   
_Biddy O'Brien began to bawl_   
_"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?_   
_"O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"_   
_"Arragh, hold your gob" said Paddy McGhee!_

__

Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner   
_Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;_   
_Wasn't it the truth I told you_   
_Lots of fun at Lattimer's wake!_

__

The band of festering charred corpses hauled Tim over their heads, towards the table. 

__

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job   
_"O Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"_   
_Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob_   
_And left her sprawlin' on the floor._   
_And then the war did soon engage_   
_'Twas woman to woman and man to man,_   
_Shillelagh law was all the rage_   
_And a row and a ruction soon began._

__

Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner   
_Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;_   
_Wasn't it the truth I told you_   
_Lots of fun at Lattimer's wake!_

They stood Tim on the table, then commenced to dance around him, stumbling as they went. Within a few moments, the corpse of Jerry Barton entered the fray. His massive body was horribly scarred, his face barely recognizable. Jerry's massive girth and rolling gait made his identity unmistakeable. 

The others stopped singing, leaving Jerry to finish the last verse. His Tulsa accent was replaced by a chilling Irish brogue, deep and penetrating. 

__

Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head   
_When a noggin of whiskey flew at him,_   
_It missed, and falling on the bed_   
_The liquor scattered over Tim!_   
_The corpse revives! See how he raises!_   
_Timothy rising from the bed,_   
_Says,"Whirl your whiskey around like blazes_   
_Thanum an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"_

The grizzly group clapped loudly as Jerry finished the ballad. He bowed as much as his bulk permitted, facing his audience, then Timothy.   
"Hey, Timmer, " Jerry's Tulsa accent returned. It was different, somehow. Deep and guttural. "We was wonderin' when you was gonna join us. As you can see, me and the boys are havin' one helluva grand ol' time here. And ya know? My rhoids don't even bother me none. Used to hurt like the dickens, remember? Well, if ya promise not to tell a soul, I'll let ya in on a little secret. When your innards are cooked, rhoids ain't a problem."   
Jerry looked at Lattimer with a grizzly smile. "We really are glad to have ya, Timmer, yes we are. We love ya buddy, and we'll remember ya forever."   
Then Jerry's smile grew menacing as did his voice. "_And with us, forever is a long, long time._"   


Tim sat up with a start. His heart was beating furiously, and his body was awash with sweat. Looking around, he could see very little as the room was dimly lit. Terrified, and disoriented, Tim screamed.   
Almost instantly, Dantalian appeared before him. Her smooth face was expressionless, as were her eyes. "Oh Timothy, dear Timothy. Bad dreams?"   
"Hell, " Tim said. "A friggin' nighmare."   
"It is to be expected. Any metamorphosis is a painful process."   
"Hell." Tim said again with resignation.   
"Get dressed, Timothy."   
It was at that point that Tim realized he was naked. He leaped out of bed with a start, trying unsuccessfully to cover himself. Dantalian regarded him curiously and began to laugh.   
"Hell, " Tim said again in embarrassment.   
"Oh Timothy, dear Timothy. I find your modesty most amusing."   
"Where's my uniform?" Tim asked, scanning the darkness for his clothes.   
"I took the liberty of it. The uniform represents a part of you that is no longer of any relevance." She handed him what looked like a black suit. "This is more befitting your new life. From this moment onwards, dear Timothy, you and I shall accomplish many wonderful things. You are mine, and I yours."   
She watched Tim's eyes carefully. They brightened and smiled. Her plan was going much better than she could have ever hoped. Tim's utter devotion to her would ensure his cooperation, and with that the destruction of the Charmed Ones. The difficult part would be disposing of Lattimer once the plan was complete.   
"_I am so glad that you are here with me, Timothy_," she said holding his hand.   
  


Leo and Piper sat alone in the living room, holding hands.   
"We're in for one helluva ride, Leo. I've got a bad feeling about this."   
"I know. I've got the same feeling."   
"Do you think Prue's going to find out anything? " Piper asked hopefully. Her sister was on her way to Sacramento to visit Latter's ex-girlfriend. Piper didn't think much would come from that.   
"It's hard to say. She might get a better feel for what Lattimer is like. That might tell us something."   
"He seemed like such a good guy."   
"I got that feeling too, " Leo sighed. "But you know how that goes. If Dantalian manages to complete his transformation into a full-fledged warlock, he is going to be just as evil as he is good." The thought was horrifying. People, Leo knew, had a capacity for either good or evil. If the good was purged, it left a great void. That meant that Timothy Lattimer could potentially be very dangerous.   
"That's what scares me."   
"If she completes the transformation, Piper, we've lost him. We won't have any other choice than to --"   
"Kill him? Is that what you're saying?" Piper pulled away from Leo and regarded him with horror.   
"That's what I mean. _We won't have a choice_."   
"We're supposed to protect innocents, Mister White-Lighter. Remember?"   
"Innocents, yes. But if Lattimer turns, he won't be an innocent."   
"I can't believe what I'm hearing, Leo. Especially from you."   
"Believe me Piper, I don't like it either."   
"There has to be something we can do before it ever comes to that."   
"We'll have to find Dantalian. She's the key to Lattimer right now."   
"I have a funny feeling that she's going to find us first." Piper said with trepidation in her voice.   
  
  


Prue looked at the address on the envelope as she drove. Her dear sister Phoebe had seen the letter in Tim's office and taken it. Her sister had been somewhat of a kleptomaniac in her younger days, and now it was paying off.   
She turned down another street.   
The house matching the address was small, and in need of repair as many of the homes in the neighborhood were. She parked along the sidewalk and walked up to the front door. She could see through the screen door that the house door was open. An unwatched TV in the living room was abuzz with what looked like a talk show of sorts.   
She rapped on the aluminum frame of the screen door. Within moments, a small dog began barking frantically. After a minute, an old, tired looking woman answered.   
"Yes," she said in an uninterested voice.   
"Hi.. um, I'm looking for Bernadette."   
"What? Are you one of her druggie friends?"   
"No... oh no. Actually I wanted to talk to her about Tim Lattimer..."   
The old woman's attitude changed when she heard the name.   
"You know Tim?"   
"Yes, sort of. I just wanted to--"   
"Is he okay? I heard about the bombing or whatever it was that happened. Here, " she said opening the screen door. "Come inside. Bernadette's not here. She's in jail. Best place for her, to tell you the truth. I'm tired as hell of dealing with her shit."   
"I don't know if Tim's okay, " Prue said. "He's disappeared."   
"My God. Are you a cop?"   
"No. Just a concerned friend."   
Prue and the old woman sat in the dirty living room. She breathed heavily as she walked over to turn off the TV. "Damn noise, it's all crap you know? I hate those shows."   
"What can you tell me about Tim and your daughter?"   
"I think you are a cop, " the old woman said in an accusatory tone. Then she softened. "As long as you can help Tim, I guess that's what matters. Well, Tim was a good guy. Too damn good for my daughter. He had a heart of gold, you know? He'd do anything for us. Problem was, he was a sucker for a pretty face and a cold heart. And they didn't come any colder than my daughter. Tim was a damn sucker for punishment. I always told him there was a fine line separating kindness from stupidity. Tim crossed that line more than once with Bernadette."   
"Ah Ms..." Prue began. The old woman raised her hand, interrupting her.   
"Just call me Chris. I don't know what it is about you. Never met ya before. But I like you. That ain't usually the case for people I just meet."   
Prue smiled warmly. "Gee, thanks. I really appreciate that. I wanted to ask you, what was it about your daughter that attracted Tim? I mean from what you say, they seem so different."   
"Different. Yep, they were different all right. Like night and day different. As far as what the attraction was, who knows. Maybe Tim was a sucker for a pretty face. Maybe he was just lonely. I tell ya I don't think it was a sexual thing. Not really. They weren't all that intimate most of the time. I'll tell you what I think it was all about. She made him feel needed. He took care of her. Always worrying himself stupid over her. Giving her money. Bailing her out of trouble. Happened all the time."   
"Kinda sounds like a codependency thing" Prue commented.   
"I guess you could call it that. I mean here this guy just about had it all. Army officer, pretty high up there. A pilot. Actually flew in space a couple of times on the Shuttle. Did you know that?"   
"That's what I heard. There was some kind of accident, wasn't there?"   
"Something happened because he got transferred to that base in the Bay Area. He never wanted to talk about it. Bernie went and got herself pregnant messing around with another guy while Tim was gone. I don't think Tim ever got over it. I tell ya, he was a damn idiot sometimes."   
"We can all be idiots from time to time, Chris. I know I can." Prue smiled.   
"Tim had a penchant for that. More than most. He had a big heart, and it got in the way. I sure hope he's alright. I sure do hope so. He doesn't deserve any of this. But that don't mean nothing. It's the best that always get it in the end."   
"Do you have a picture of him? I'd like to have something to give the police. It might help."   
Chris eyes Prue cautiously. "A picture? Just so happens I got one handy. Bernie never cared enough to keep one. But I did. I always figured one day she'd regret the way she dogged Tim." She sighed deeply. "But I guess a leopard can never change its spots."   
The tired old woman went into the dark hallway, returning a few minutes later with a Polaroid of a very thin man standing next to a tree. It was Tim alright. The expression on his face was the same as she'd remembered. Except for the fact he'd been rather terrified when she and Tim had met. Bad situation, Prue remembered. Maybe if she hadn't let her temper fly at Tim, things might have turned out differently. Then again, maybe not.   
What-Might-Have-Been's never worked. They were irrelevant.   
The Here-And-Now's were what counted.   
They needed to find Lattimer.   
Before it was too late.   
_ Too late for him, and too late for them._   
  


__

Phoebe had been crying, they could tell. Usually the best thing was to leave her alone, as she oftentimes didn't want to discuss the matter. It was a sure bet that it involved one person.   
_Cole. _Memories could cut deeper than the sharpest knives.   
"You alright sis?" Piper asked affectionately, stroking her hair.   
"Ya. I'm OK."   
"If you want to talk, I'm here. Remember that."   
"I know. I know you are." She dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex, then looked worriedly at Piper.   
"Cole was just here. He said he needed to talk to me."   
"Why? Why the hell can't he just leave bad enough alone. He seems to wait until you're doing better before he drops the axe on you again. Is this his sadistic way of having fun?"   
"No, Piper. Listen."   
Piper became quiet.   
"He knows about Tim and Dantalian. He says the Brotherhood is interested in what happens to Tim. If he turns evil...into a full-fledged warlock, then..."   
"I know. Leo and I were having the same conversation."   
"No, there's more. From what Cole says, Tim's in love with her."   
"_WHAT?!_"   
"I thought the same thing. But apparently she's managed to convince him that we're the bad ones, and she's the victim."   
"That has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Are you sure Cole isn't just playing with your mind?" Piper's voice was angry and suspicious.   
"Somehow, I think that Cole is telling the truth," Phoebe began slowly. "I mean if an evil Tim could turn out to be as powerful as we've heard, then it stands to reason he'd be a big threat. A threat to the leadership in the Brotherhood for one. Maybe even a treat to Cole. Having Tim killed would benefit a lot of people. Especially those who want to hang on to their power."   
"Hmmmm." Piper muttered. It was hard to gauge exactly what that meant.   
"As hard as it might be to believe," Phoebe continued, "I know how Tim feels. I've lived it, sis. _I've lived it alright. _It doesn't take a lot to fall for someone. And falling for the wrong person seems to be part of the recipe. And when that happens, you go to every extreme, no matter how stupid, to convince yourself that the person you have invested so much into is worth it. You want to believe it. In fact, you can't believe anything else." She stopped a moment, and rubbed her red eyes. "And even now, after I know what Cole really is, I still can't help the feelings I get every time he shows up. I want everything to be okay, and I know it won't be. And this business with Tim? I understand it. He's got nothing left right now. His career's over. A lot of his friends are dead. Apparently the woman he loved got herself pregnant from some other guy. What's he got left?"   
Piper nodded sadly. "Not much, Pheebs. Not much..."   
  
  


Tim and Dantalian strolled through the streets. The night air was fresh and brisk, full of life and energy. Tim didn't quite remember a time when he'd felt so alive. Dantalian held his hand with her good one. Her touch sent jolts of electricity through his body.   
It couldn't get any better than this, Tim thought. Sooner or later, he was afraid he'd wake up only to find it had all been a dream. He wouldn't be able to handle that. Just one minute longer, he thought. _Just one minute more..._   
They noticed a tall man walking towards them. As he approached, Tim could feel Dantalain's grip tighten. Tim began to feel nervous. Something was going on, and he didn't like it.   
The man stopped a few feet away, beckoning to Dantalian. She looked up at Tim and said, "Wait here. I won't be but a moment.". With that she let go of Tim's hand, and walked towards the stranger.   


"High Priestess. You look quite well for someone who's been vanquished. Quite well indeed."   
"State your business, Belthazor."   
The man looked at her with a smile, "My you are a suspicious one, aren't you."   
"With you, we all have reason to be suspicious. Again, state your business. My time is precious and I do not care to waste it on frivolities."   
"As you wish, Dantalian. We have some grave concerns regarding your conduct with Lattimer."   
"_We?_" She asked suspiciously. "Who is this _we_? Could it be you and the _Charmed Ones_?" She spat the last sentence as if the very words were poison.   
"The Brotherhood does not approve of the way you are handling this situation. By introducing Lattimer to his powers, you are pushing him closer and closer to the Transformation. Without the necessary preparation, this will prove dangerous."   
"I have no intention of completing the Transformation, and I demand that you tell your associates, _whoever they may be_ that I do not take meddling in my affairs lightly."   
"Your obsession for vengeance with the Charmed Ones has many quite concerned."   
"Afraid for your little Phoebe, are you Belthazor? How very, very touching."   
"The Halliwells may be of use to us."   
"I fail to see the logic in your reasoning, Belthazor. Quite frankly, my patience with you is waning."   
"Has it occurred to you, Dantalian, that if Lattimer were to turn renegade-- that he would be a dangerous liability to all concerned? If that happens, we may need even the power of the Charmed Ones to stop him. I am prepared for such an eventuality."   
"I warn you, Belthazor. Do not interfere. I may very well end up destroying you along with that precious little sister of yours."   
"Phoebe is of no concern to me. Your conduct, however is another matter altogether. You are driven by a mad desire for revenge, Dantalian. Blind rage is an invitation for disaster."   
  


Tim watched the discourse between the tall man and Dantalian.   
He didn't like it.   
Tim walked over to where they stood. As he approached, their conversation ceased.   
"So, you are the Timothy Lattimer we've heard so much about. " The man smiled, but did not extend his hand. "My name's Cole. Cole Turner. Just an old friend."   
"Is everything OK?" Tim asked Dantalian while he eyed the stranger suspiciously.   
"Do not be concerned, Tim." She replied placing her hand on his shoulder.   
"No, there's nothing to be concerned about at all Tim, " Cole said. "But I will leave you with one thought. Keep your friends close. _Keep your enemies even closer_." With that, he turned and walked away.   
Tim and Dantalian watched as he disappeared into the night.   
"I don't like that guy." Tim said quietly. The man's words had made his blood run cold.   
"Your instincts are correct, Timothy. _ He is not to be trusted._"   


The encounter with Belthazor had angered her, and anger would prove counterproductive at this stage of her plan. She needed to capitalize upon her success with Lattimer. In order to do this, it was essential that she solidify the closeness he now felt towards her.   
"Come, Timothy. The night is young. Let's enjoy ourselves."   
Tim smiled, and took her by the hand. Together, they walked aimlessly into the night, mingling with the seemingly carefree tourists.   
  


"When we make our move, it has to be on our terms, not hers." Prue said. Piper and Phoebe looked at her curiously.   
"Sis, it's not like we have a lot of time on our hands, you know? We need to find him as soon as we can. We don't--"   
Prue put up her hand, cutting Phoebe off. "Listen, Pheebs. If we go off half-cocked, all we're going to do is walk right into a trap. Do you understand what I'm saying?"   
"Ya. I understand. I also understand that we don't have a lot of options left right now. The location spells we did using the picture you brought back didn't tell us much. All we know is that he's somewhere in the City. Out in the open. We could start looking---"   
"Needle in a haystack, Pheebs. Where exactly would you look?" Prue countered.   
"Anything beats sitting here talking and not doing anything." Phoebe retorted in an exasperated voice.   
"Okay, then. Again, _where exactly would you look?"_   
"How about 2nd and Vine? Heading south, maybe?" A male voice said.   
All three sisters turned their heads in unison.   
_Cole._   
The girls looked at him in utter surprise.   
Unabashed, he walked towards them, stopping a few feet away from Phoebe.   
"I just saw them, and they were right where I said."   
"_They?_" Phoebe exclaimed.   
"Tim and Dantalian. They really make a bad couple if you ask me."   
"And what the hell makes you think we should trust you?" Prue asked angrily.   
Cole sighed, and sat next to Phoebe. "As Pheebs says, you don't have a lot of time. She's right. You don't."   
"_Really_. And what do you propose we do?" Prue's voice was filled with sarcasm and suspicion. What possible reason would Cole to help them and who was he working for? These were the questions that needed an answer. And so far, answers were damn scarce.   
Cole's voice was calm and even. "If you move now, you stand a good chance of getting to them. But you have to _move right now."_   
"Too damn convenient, " Prue began. "We've been trying to track Lattimer for hours, without any luck. And her you come with everything but a written invitation. That looks just a little fishy, don't you think?"   
"You don't have the Underworld Connections that I do."   
"_Your connections are the very damn reason I don't trust you._"   
Phoebe spoke up, her voice angry and impatient, "He's telling the truth, Prue. We can't afford to sit and wait."   
Piper shook her head, "I'm with Pheebs. We need to do something. I'm willing to take the chance that Cole's telling the truth."   
"A big risk, and we're risking a lot. I hope you realize that," Prue sighed.   
"I'm just passing on information here, so don't shoot the messenger, OK?" Cole said as he stood up. "There's one other thing, and you're not going to like it. You've already lost Tim Lattimer. I can tell you that now. You go after Dantalian, and Tim will fight to protect her. He's got powers enough to do that."   
"She couldn't have completed the Transformation. We'd have ---" Phoebe began.   
"No, " Cole interrupted her. "He's acting out of a sense of misguided loyalty and misplaced love. His heart is still good. And that's what makes him dangerous." He sighed again. "Just look at history. How many innocents died as the result of good intentions?"   
Phoebe looked at Cole with sadness in her eyes.   
Cole avoided her stare, looking at the ground as he spoke, "I'll do what I can to help you. But don't wait until it's too late. At that point, I can't do a damn thing for any of you."   
With that, Cole vanished.   
  


Tim and Dantalian stood in front of a bar.   
P3.   
It was a place Tim recognized. He'd been there before.   
"I really don't think this is such a good idea. I really don't, " Lattimer said hesitantly staring at the line of patrons waiting to go inside.   
"Timothy, dear Timothy, " Dantalian chided. "Do you wish to live your life in fear?"   
"Do you know who owns this place? I really don't think we'd be welcome."   
"I should think not, " Dantalian laughed aloud.   
"Then maybe we should go somewhere else."   
"No. P3 is an excellent place to spend a fun evening." She smiled insidiously at Lattimer. "My dear Timothy. After all the trouble I have gone through rescuing you, do you believe I would allow any harm to befall you?"   
Tim began to feel like a coward. It wasn't a feeling he liked. He'd learned to be cautious in his life, as there wasn't any need to invite trouble if it could be avoided. For some reason, Dantalian wanted to go in there, and there wasn't any way in hell Tim was going to stop her. He was more worried about her than he was for himself, and he couldn't very well let her go in alone.   
"Alright," he said with great hesitation, "Let's do it."   
Dantalian laughed again, "Good. I dislike dancing alone..."   
  


Prue stood, facing her sisters. They could be thick headed as hell sometimes. Too damn thick headed for their own good.   
"Listen. Cole's probably right about one thing. We probably lost Tim. We risk losing a lot more if we start reacting to the situation instead of using our heads and thinking it through."   
"So we just give up on Tim, is that right? I mean what happened to all that business about saving innocents?" Phoebe said as Piper nodded in agreement.   
"The thing is this; Tim made a choice, alright? He's where he is now because he wanted to be there. You see the difference here?"   
"I can't forget that face. Those eyes. He couldn't hurt a fly. I can't believe--" Phoebe began.   
"We don't know what he's become. We don't know what he's capable of doing. The one thing that seems for sure is that if he's transformed into a full-fledged warlock, he could really do a lot of damage. What are you going to tell the innocents that end up becoming his victims? Are you going to tell 'em what a nice guy he was? That he couldn't hurt a fly? It won't mean a damn thing, Pheebs. Not a damn thing."   
"Isn't that all the more reason why we should _make our move now, Prue?_" Piper's voice was filled with anxiety.   
"We make our move now, and we don't know what we're walking into. Trust me on this one. Dantalian will come to us if we don't go to her. When she does that, we'll have the advantage."   
"And what advantage is that?" Phoebe asked.   
"Because we'll be on familiar ground, for one. No booby traps. And we'll have the Book close by for another."   
Piper and Phoebe looked at one another, then back at Prue.   
"Ok, sis. You win. We'll stick it out here and wait." Piper said hesitantly. She didn't like the idea of doing nothing, and she could tell that Phoebe didn't either. They knew Prue wasn't going to budge, and it was important they stick together.   
  


The music was deafening. Old age, Tim thought. He remembered the days of his youth when he loved the blaring noise. Another time, he thought. Another life altogether.   
He recognized the song. The words seemed to sink into his being along with the melody.   
It reminded him of Bernadette. 

"_I watched the world float to the_   
_ Dark side of the moon_   
_ After all I knew it had to be something_   
_ To do with you_   
_ I really don't mind what happens now and then_   
_ As long as you'll be my friend at the end_

__

If I go crazy then will you still   
_ Call me Superman_   
_ If I'm alive and well, will you be_   
_ There holding my hand_   
_ I'll keep you by my side with_   
_ My superman might_   
_ Kryptonite..."_

__

Dantalian sensed Tim's gloom and pulled him onto the dance floor. He watched her as she swayed seductively waving her gloved hands before him. Her exotic eyes hypnotized as they bore down into his very soul.   
She was breathtakingly beautiful.   
At that moment, Tim would have given anything for her. 

_You called me strong, you called me weak,_   
_ But still your secrets I will keep_   
_You took for granted all the times I_   
_Never let you down..._

__

Her movements were elegant and graceful. The music became a part of her. Her body seemed to exude sound as the words of the song took on a life of their own... 

__

You stumbled in and bumped your head, if   
_ Not for me then you would be dead_   
_ I picked you up and put you back_   
_ On solid ground_

__

Those around them took notice of her as they too became mesmerized by Dantalian's hypnotic beauty. If she was aware of the onlookers, she did not show it. She continued dancing as if she were alone in the universe... 

__

For Tim, the real world ceased to exist altogether, supplanted by a fantasy. This is as good as it gets, he thought. _As good as it gets._   
The music ended, and the deejay began his fever pitched babble "That was Kryptonite, by Three Doors Down. How many super-people do we have here tonight? Come on, let me hear ya!"   
Dantalian walked off the dance floor with Tim in tow. Envious looks from the men along with jealous looks from the women followed them as they made their way to the bar.   
"What'll ya have?" A young, pretty girl asked them.   
"A highball, thank you." Dantalian said.   
"Both of you?"   
"Yes. Thank you."   
A moment later their drinks arrived. Tim sipped the highball, and made a face.   
"Don't tell me it's too strong for you, dear Timothy." Dantalian chided.   
"I'm not much of a drinker, to tell you the truth."   
Dantalian took her drink and finished it in a single swallow. Then she turned and looked at Tim, winking her eye. Without a word, she took Tim's drink and swallowed it without even a change of expression.   
_Good God_, Tim thought. _She's going to drink herself stupid._ He didn't relish the thought of what she might be like drunk.   
"Excuse me, " Dantalian called to the bar girl.   
"Yes?"   
"Can you tell me if Piper Halliwell is working tonight?"   
"Ah, no she isn't. She should be in tomorrow..."   
"Oh. How disappointing. I'm an old friend. I haven't seen her in such a long time."   
"Really? Well, I can call her for you, if you'd like. I bet she'd like to hear from you."   
_I wouldn't wager on that if I were you, _ Dantalian thought with an evil smile.   
"Ah, what's your name? Who should I tell Piper is here?"   
"Please tell her that Dannie would love to see her again..."   
  


The phone rang.   
Once... twice....   
Prue picked it up, "Hello? Halliwell residence..."   
"_Hi, Prue? This is Darla. At P3? Can I speak to Piper please?_"   
Prue frowned. "Is everything OK, Dar?"   
"_Oh yea. No prob. It's all cool. Busy night tonight._"   
"Piper, phone. Darla wants to talk to you." Before she handed the receiver to Piper, she put her hand over the mouthpiece and said, "She says everything's fine...but I don't know.". Prue looked worried.   
"Hi, Dar. What's up?" Piper asked in a friendly tone.   
"_Piper, there's a girl here that says she's an old friend of yours. She was hoping to see you tonight. Seemed hella disappointed that she missed you._"   
"Really." Piper said in a puzzled tone. "What's her name?"   
"_Dannie. She says her name is Dannie._"   
"Hmmm. Doesn't ring a bell. What's she look like?"   
"_Real pretty. Seems like she's got money the way she's dressed and all--"_   
"Dar, " Piper said impatiently, "just tell me what she looks like, don't give me a fashion rundown for Chrissake."   
"_Well, she's oriental. Maybe about 5'4" around that. Slim. She's with this guy... real scrawny dude..._"   
Piper's blood ran cold.   
"Dar. Listen to me carefully, OK? Look at her hands."   
"_Her hands? Why?_"   
"Just look at her hands, OK? What do you see?"   
"_She's got these really cute satin gloves on that I'd really die for..._"   
"Let me talk to her, OK"   
"_Sure. Here she is._" The music had quieted down somewhat, and Piper could hear chattering in the background.   
Then she heard a chilling voice.   
It was a voice that came from the very depths of hell itself.   
"_Hello, little sister. It has been such a long time, has it not?_"   
"Not long enough. What the hell are you doing in my club?"   
"_I thought I'd take dear little Timothy out for the evening. Your place has such ambiance, I thought he'd like it. I must say your drinks are a tad overpriced_."   
"What the hell do you want?"   
"_Just to see you again, Little Sister. Just to see you so that we can speak of old times._"   
"I don't think we have all that much to talk about."   
"_Oh, I disagree, Little Sister. We have a great deal to talk about. I think of you always. I think of you every-time-I-tie-my-shoes._"   
"I gather that. Must be kinda hard."   
"_Oh you have no idea, Little Sister. You have no idea_."   
"I want you the hell out of there, NOW!"   
"_I'm a paying customer, am I not, Little Sister? Is my money not as good as anyone else's? I gather money must be of significance to you, or you would not have this place filled beyond its capacity. Dangerous, you know. Very dangerous. You've no doubt heard of that most unfortunate incident at the Army base earlier?_"   
"Oh DAMN YOU!"   
"_What a dire tragedy. How unfortunate if a similar calamity were to happen here. I'm guessing what, five hundred people? All screaming for the exists at the same time? How horrible that would be, Little Sister."_   
_ "_So you want me to come down there, do you?_" _The rage in Piper's voice was threatening.   
"_It would be so nice to see you again. I do so love reunions,_" Dantalian chided.   
"Be careful what you wish for." Piper held the receiver away from her as if it contained some demonic entity. Then she slammed it down on the cradle with such force, it cracked the plastic on the receiver. 

Prue and Phoebe looked anxiously at their sister. Her face was deep red, her lips thin and bloodless. Her eyes were murderous.   
"She's at the bar. Now. She's talking about destroying the place. I'm going there. I'm going now." Her voice was mechanical. It was as if Piper were talking to herself.   
"Hang on, sis. Get a grip. We can't--" Phoebe began.   
"Can't what? She's going to destroy P3! Do you have any idea how many people are in there tonight?"   
"Sis, I was going to say that we can't let you go there alone."   
"I don't like this either, " Prue said worriedly. "You can't go alone. Pheebs is right."   
"Then come on! We're wasting time!" Piper grabbed the car keys and headed towards the door.   


Dantalian was smiling. It was a smile filled with malice and satisfaction.   
_To defeat the tiger, one must first lure the tiger from its lair._ The proverb was ancient, but relevant. She'd succeeded in drawing the Charmed Ones out into the open.   
It had been so easy. So pitifully easy.   
"Timothy, " She nudged Lattimer.   
"What?"   
"Providence is what, my dear Timothy. _Providence_." She pulled him towards the rear of the bar where it was quieter and more conducive to conversation.   
"The Charmed Ones will be here shortly."   
"Ohh Shit."   
"Listen carefully, Timothy. This is extremely important. You will go to the Manor. In the attic. You will see a podium, and on that podium will be the Book of Shadows. You will take it and bring it back to me."   
Tim looked at her, not saying a word.   
Dantalian pulled him closer. "I caution you, " she said holding the index finger of her right hand inches in front of his face, "do not look around. Do not touch anything else in the house save the Book, do you understand? Touch nothing."   
"Not a problem. And where are you going to be?"   
"Do not worry. I will be safe, as will you..."   
  


Piper stormed into P3, glancing intently in every direction. Phoebe stepped up beside her, as Prue walked by the bar.   
"_Hey, there she is!_" Phoebe pointed into the crowd.   
"Let's go kick some demonic ass!" Piper spat.   
The two girls shouldered their way through the crowd, towards a dark figure standing next to a table. The figure showed no sign of noticing the girls as they approached.   
Phoebe grabbed the dark figure, spinning it around.   
A young, startled Japanese girl was shaking in Phoebe's grasp.   
"Ohh jeeez, I'm sooo sorry. I thought you were somebody else." Phoebe apologized profusely.   
The young girl smiled nervously, and bolted for the bathroom.   
The two girls looked at one another, embarrassed.   
"Now that's a class act." Phoebe said disgustedly.   
"You think she's even still here?" Piper asked anxiously. She wasn't relishing the possibility that they'd been set up. From the way things looked, they sure as hell had been.   
"Let's see what Prue's found out. Come on." Phoebe was walking towards the bar, shouldering customers out of her way as she went. Piper followed.   
Prue watched as her sisters approached. The look on her face told Phoebe and Piper more than they'd wanted to know.   
"She's gone, right?" Piper's voice was high pitched and apprehensive.   
"Ya. Dar said she disappeared. One minute here, and the next gone."   
"Why would she have us come here for nothing? I mean after all, she wants a piece of me, right?" Piper asked.   
"I've got an answer, and I hope I'm wrong." Prue said slowly.   
"Well?" Phoebe and Piper asked in unison.   
"The Book. This is her grand opportunity."   
"Come on, Prue. She can't touch that book. You know that. Evil can't lay a hand on it." Piper looked puzzled.   
"No, she can't. _But Tim can._ _If he's acting on good intentions, I'm afraid he can._"   


The attic was dark, but not forbidding.   
The Book was sitting atop the podium, just as Dantalian predicted.   
Something puzzled Tim. She'd insisted that he shouldn't look around. The witches wouldn't be around for a while, and even if they showed up unexpectedly, he could still grab the Book and leave.   
She told him not to touch anything. He didn't understand that either.   
Despite Dantalian's warning, Tim began to look around the attic. In an old box, he found something that looked like a picture album. He picked it up, and held it for a moment. It exuded sadness. Memories. Long lost memories.   
He looked through the album.   
Pictures. Old pictures. Children. _The Three Sisters?_ And an woman called Grams.   
Grams? A grandmother? The woman's face was one of compassion and love. Why would evil witches have pictures of their grandmother? _Grams?_   
_ Why would evil witches treasure childhood memories?_   
The longer he stayed in the attic, the more he began to feel the loving, caring tenderness the permeated the entire house. It was strong. Damn strong.   
Why hadn't he felt it when the sisters first brought him here? The answer was simple. He didn't feel it because he was scared half out of his wits.   
Was it possible he'd made some godawful mistake? It was altogether too damn possible. He had to find out.   
Tim remembered the man the sisters had summoned back at the base. The man that brought him here. They'd called his name, and he came. Maybe that would work for him as well. Hell, it was worth a try.   
"Leo? Leo, I need to talk to you. If you can hear me, please come. _I need to talk with you pretty damn bad_."   
  


The traffic was unbearable.   
It usually was on a Saturday night.   
"Okay, Prue. You can say it now." Phoebe said anxiously.   
"Say what?" Prue said, keeping her eye on the road as she drove.   
"I-toldja-so."   
"Okay, Phoebe. I told ya so. Feel better now?"   
"Not really. But I knew you were gonna say it."   
"Smart girl, sis. I was."   
A sportscar pulled in front of them, and slowed to a maddeningly slow pace.   
Prue growled behind the wheel. "Lady, you've got a shitload of fucking horses under that hood. Please use 'em!"   


At first glance, Timothy Lattimer looked demonic, dressed in black and pale. But the eyes gave him away. They were sad and troubled. They were filled with what looked like unbearable pain.   
"Well, Tim. Good of you to stop by." Leo said in a conversational tone.   
"Damn awkward, this is."   
"Do you mind if I ask why you're here?"   
"Come on, Leo. You know why. I came to take the Book of Shadows."   
Leo walked over to the podium, picked up the Book and handed it to Tim. It was heavier that Tim thought, and he nearly dropped it. He held it for a moment, then placed it carefully on the podium.   
"You don't want it?" Leo asked innocently. He'd handed Lattimer the Book for a reason. If Tim's willingness to talk were a ruse, the Book would have burned Lattimer's hands. Leo had seen it before. Evil hands would never touch the Book of Shadows. This was proof that Tim was sincere.   
"To tell you the truth, I'd rather have some answers. I was hoping you could help me."   
Leo smiled a warm smile. "Let's talk, Tim. Come on downstairs. It's a lot more comfortable down there."   


Where would he begin? Tim didn't know. He was confused, betrayed and heartbroken. He knew he wasn't going to like what Leo had to say. Just the same, he needed to know the truth.   
"Tim, you are being conned. Big time."   
"Sounds depressingly familiar. Story of my life."   
"No. Not like this. The stakes here are damn high, Tim."   
"She wants revenge. I know that much. Can you tell me what that's all about? She says that the Charmed Ones maimed her. Is she telling the truth?"   
"It's true." Leo's voice was sad and conciliatory.   
"Why? It doesn't seem to fit."   
"What do you mean by that?"   
"I got a sense of something in the attic. I sensed that there was a lot of Good in this house. Damn overwhelming. The picture albums... everything just... well, it seems out of character for those girls to do something like that."   
"It _was_ out of character. There was a long story behind that..." Leo recounted the incident to Tim. About Prue's wedding to the warlock Zile. About the Evil flowing from Prue to the other sisters. About the Book becoming Evil. About Dantalian's plans to take the Book and destroy the Charmed Ones.   
"Holy Jesus." Tim commented when Leo was finished. "_You say they killed her?_"   
"That's what we thought. Now she's back, and she wants to use you to get her revenge and get the Book."   
"Somehow I could get it and she couldn't. I wondered about that."   
"Only Good can touch that Book. The minute you laid hands on it, I knew for sure that you were OK."   
"_Only_ _Good can touch it..._. Too bad it didn't have built in safeguards for S_tupid_."   
"Tim. Haven't we all made bad choices? Look. You did the right thing."   
"I couldn't bring myself to take that Book. Not if I had any doubt about what I was doing."   
"That's what counts. And now that you're here, you're protected. Dantalian can't get to you."   
"Leo, " Tim began slowly. "I think that we have a misunderstanding here. I won't take your Book. But I can't stay here either. I have to go back.. I need to talk to her. _It's not like I can just walk away.._."   
  


Prue pulled into the driveway and almost forgot to step on the brake. At the last moment, she brought the car to an abrupt halt, badly jarring her two sisters.   
"Good God, Prue, " Phoebe complained.   
Prue ignored the younger sister, making a dead run for the front door. Everything seemed normal on the outside, but this did little to satisfy her. Her instincts told her something was definitely wrong. Experience taught her that it was usually the subtlest of things that spelled the most tragic of disasters.   
Unlocking the door, she made her way into the Manor, followed by Piper and Phoebe. As they approached the living room, all three stopped in shock.   
"Tim?" Phoebe said in a faint voice.   
"Um, nice of you to pay us a visit." Prue's voice had a taint of sarcasm.   
"To tell you the truth, " Tim said sadly, "I was just on my way out."   
"You mean you can't even stay and chat awhile? I mean you ran out on us so suddenly earlier." Prue's suspicion was evident.   
"Listen. Please listen." Tim said waving both hands in the air. "Leo's set me straight on what's what. It wasn't something that I wanted to hear. But it's something I needed to know." He paused a moment, studying the expression on their faces. Phoebe was confused, Piper frightened and Prue was angry. "Dantalian sent me here for the Book of Shadows. When it came down to it, I couldn't take it. I guess I wasn't cut out to be a thief. I had to know what was really going on." Tim made a hopeless gesture. "And I found out. I wish I hadn't to tell you the truth."   
Prue seemed to relax, the anger draining from her face. "Tim, you're still in danger."   
"I know."   
"We'll do the best we can to protect you. I promise you that."   
"Prue. I'm not staying. I have to go back."   
"_What?" _all three girls said in perfect unison.   
"I need to talk to her. It's something that I have to do."   
Phoebe approached Tim. "She's gonna kill you. You know that, don't you? _She will kill you!_"   
"Probably. She probably will."   
"Then why go back? " Phoebe's voice was desperate.   
"I have to. I wish I could give you a better reason than that."   
"Tim, " Phoebe began slowly. "I know what you're feeling right now. I know what it feels like when the one you love more than anyone else in the world turns out to be not what you thought they were. I know what it feels like to be betrayed by someone you love. _God I know what it feels like_."   
"Then tell me honestly Phoebe, what would you do if I were me?"   
"If I were gonna be honest, I'd have to say that I'd do exactly what you're planning on doing."   
"_PHOEBE!_" Prue hissed.   
The younger sister looked helplessly at Prue. "_Well, I would._ I'd have to go back and at least get some answers."   
Leo put up a hand in an attempt to calm the two sisters. "Listen, Tim. I don't know exactly what you expect to accomplish by going back there.. I'm telling you that talking to her won't make a bit of difference. She will kill you."   
"I still have to do it."   
"Do you think that you're gonna change her?" Piper spoke up. "You won't. She's evil, Tim! _What part of evil don't you understand?"_   
Tim shook his head slowly. "Listen, everybody. I have to do this. I don't have any intention of dying or getting killed. I just want answers, OK?"   
"I thought I just gave you all the answers you needed, Tim." Leo said quietly.   
"I need to hear it from her. Listen, Leo. _Just give me one hour_. Would an extra hour really make that much of a difference?"   
Leo folded his hands and looked at Tim. "You tell me, Tim. _Would one extra hour really make that much of a difference?_"   
  


"I had to come back, " Tim said to Dantalian in a wavering voice.   
"This is obvious, Timothy. You are here, are you not? And without the Book of Shadows." Her voice was unusually calm, and this scared Tim even more.   
"I thought we could talk."   
"Talk? What is it that you wish to discuss with me? I presume the Whitelighter told you all you needed to know."   
"I want to hear it from you."   
"Very well, " Dantalian sighted. "Everything he told you is true. Does this make you feel better, dear Timothy?"   
"No."   
"You so much wish to be lied to, and when you are lied to, you wish to know the truth. Is there no pleasing you?" Dantalian's playful tone changed drastically. "Why did you not take the Book, Timothy? Why did you betray my trust?" Her voice was fraught with sadness. Although Tim knew it was a ploy, still it bit deep into his soul.   
And she knew it.   
"I'm not an evil man, Dantalian. I'm sorry to disappoint you. I can't do what's against my nature."   
"Ah, I see. They why, pray tell, did you return?"   
"I honestly don't know. Other than to tell you that my feelings for you haven't changed."   
"Do not try my patience with melodramatics, please."   
"It's the way I feel."   
"Interesting. Very interesting. You find me unspeakably evil, yet you are desperately in love with me."   
"I never said that. I never said I was in love with you."   
Dantalian smiled, running a finger down his cheek. "You didn't have to, Timothy. You didn't have to."   
"Good and evil, " Tim muttered. "Sometimes I wonder if there's really a difference."   
"Ah, " Dantalian said playfully. "A light shines after all. Let me tell you something, dear Timothy. All that you consider good is an illusion as is the concept of goodness. It is a lie. Perhaps it is the most insidious of all lies."   
"You're wrong."   
"Am I Timothy? Am I really?"   
"Yes, you are. I knew goodness. The few friends that I had... they didn't come any better than that."   
"And yet, all their Goodness did not save them from disaster. Their lives extinguished as if they were insects underfoot. It was easy. So pitifully easy..."   
"You did that? You mean to tell me you caused the explosion in the BPC?" Tim's voice was filled with tired resignation.   
"It was not my intention. I meant only to kill that bloated cretin--"   
"Barton? You killed Jerry Barton?"   
"Do not act so distraught, Timothy. You considered him a foul irritant, as did those precious Good friends that you love so dearly."   
"We didn't want him killed."   
"Your illusions of Goodness would not have permitted it."   
"Our humanity wouldn't permit it."   
"Oh, excuse me, Timothy. " Dantalian said with great sarcasm. "_Humanity._"   
"Stoik or Hashimoto. They'd have given their lives for me. And I'd do it for them."   
"Soldiers. You are so quick to give your lives for one another. I am touched indeed."   
Dantalian looked intently at Tim.   
"Yes, I know. In a moment of passion, they would make the supreme sacrifice. Of this, I have no doubt. But, " She held up her index finger as if she were an attorney making a crucial point., "consider this. Suppose the nature of the crisis is not short lived. Supposing that you and they were stranded for a long period of time with food in short supply. Do you honestly think that either of them, faced with slow death, would give their lives by giving away their share of food? I assure you this would not be the case. In actuality, they would take what meager supplies you possessed so that they would live. After you would be gone, they would fight to the death amongst themselves.   
"Or better yet, how often have the most loving of brothers have killed one another over a woman?   
"What I'm telling you is the truth, Timothy. When what you would consider to be the best of mortals were faced with a situation involving great loss---providing they had ample time to assess the consequences--- would resort to their animal nature. The animal nature resides within them. Within all of them, as it is within you. It cannot be denied. No Timothy, Evil cannot be denied as it is a crucial part of all of us. There is no Goodness, only delusions and lies."   
Tim shook his head. "You're wrong, Dantalian."   
Dantalian smiled seductively. "Oh am I, Timothy? Am I indeed?"   
"You are." Tim said sadly.   
"As much as I enjoy this intellectual debate, I have not the time. I am going to do something that is a rarity for me. I am going to give you a second chance."   
Tim looked at her, surprised. "Another chance? But I told you, that book--"   
Dantalian waved him off. "Forget the book, Timothy. I am talking of something different."   
"Go ahead. I'm listening."   
"Very well, then. I am talking of a union between the two of us. A marriage if you will..."   
  


"I've got it!" Phoebe announced, nearly knocking her chair on its side as she bolted upward.   
Three heads turned sharply in her direction.   
"You located Tim's signature? Are you sure this time?" Piper sounded hopeful.   
"Ya. I think so. It's still kinda weak. " She waved the amulet in a circle over a map next to Tim's picture. "I think he almost wants us to find him."   
"That's one confused warlock-to-be." Prue said absently.   
"If we can help it, he'll be a warlock-that-never-was." Piper said.   
"First we have to find him. How long until you have a better fix on that signature, Pheebs?" Prue walked over to where Phoebe was standing.   
"It's getting stronger, I can feel it. It won't be long."   
"Now's a good time to figure out exactly what it is that we're gonna do..." Leo said as he glanced nervously at Piper.   


Tim didn't answer. Instead, he kept looking perplexedly at Dantalian.   
No doubt, she had surprised Timothy. This was her last chance to salvage this seemingly hopeless situation. If Tim agreed, his transformation would be complete once the ritual was done. His willingness was crucial, for even the smallest hesitation would ruin the spell.   
She wasn't sure how successful she would be in manipulating Timothy. Even less certain was her ability to control him once he made the transformation. One thing was certain. Once done, she would share his powers. And once done, she would have to kill him.   
Tim looked at the bonding ritual. It was written in an ancient book that smelled that musty smell of old pages in an abandoned attic. He found the words chilling... 

"_In the beginning, we were damned._   
_ And through damnation, we found purpose, power and freedom "_

__

"Damnation doesn't sound too appealing, Dantalian."   
"A play on words, Timothy. Merely a play on words."   
"Damnation is damnation."   
"Are you not damned? Tell me this. Is not the existence you now lead damnation in itself? Your self doubt. Your constant worrying and anxiety. Your entire life has been perdition in the classical sense. You know this to be true, Timothy."   
"It's been hell."   
"I fail to see what it is that you do not wish to leave behind."   
"My humanity, for what it's worth."   
"Ahh. Your humanity. Your precious humanity has been the cause of your damnation, as it has brought you nothing but pain and misery. These are chains from which I can free you."   
"My humanity is all I have left."   
"Perhaps, " Dantalian's voice became dark and cold. "Perhaps you miss your old life. Perhaps it is that dear sweet Bernadette that you miss."   
"Let's not go there, Dantalian. Please."   
"Ahh yes, I believe that it is Bernadette that you miss. Is it not the case, dear, sweet., confused Timothy?" 

Before Tim could utter a word, Dantalian began talking in a different voice.   
_It was Bernadette's voice._   
The words, Tim had heard over and over again for the past ten years.   
Each time, they ate deep into his soul...   
"_Aww, Timmy. Pleeeeze Timmy... gimmie twenny bucks, will ya? I'm sick and I need ta get well, Okay sweetie? After this, I promise I won't ask ya for no more money. I just need this fix to get me well and I won't ask ya for no more, I promise.._."   
Dantalian paused for a moment, looking intently at Tim with her dark, exotic eyes.   
"Please, Dantalian. Don't do this to me..."   
"_Aww, Timmy. I won't ask ya for no more money I promise. If ya can't give me twenny bucks how 'bout ten? Ya ain't got ten bucks, Timmie? I need to get some stuff for my dentures...that's what I need it for, honest to God Timmy."_   
Again, Dantalian paused. "Charming, isn't she? I can understand the attraction," She said with sarcasm and disgust.   
Tim looked at her, saying nothing.   
"We have spent a great deal of time together, Timothy. In that time, I have found your company quite enjoyable. I have no wish to end it by destroying you."   
"I'm sorry, Dantalian. I can't do it." Tim's voice was soft and quiet. Almost imperceptible.   
Dantalian regarded him for a moment, then said "Very well, Timothy. You leave me no choice." With that she took several steps backward. She looked at Tim with puzzled curiosity. Over the centuries, she'd dealt death more times than she could count. Invariably, her victims clung to life even when they knew the hopelessness of their situation. They cried and begged, hoping against hope for a last minute reprieve. Of course, there never was one.   
Tim was a strange one. He merely looked at her sadly, his resignation evident. Not only did he expect to die, he seemed to welcome it.   
Dantalian approached Tim, and kissed him seductively, almost mockingly.   
"Was that the kiss of death, Dantalian?"   
She didn't answer. There was nothing more to be said. Dantalian raised her good hand and paused,   


"This is the end of the line, you bitch! _Tim, get away from her!_"   
_It was them_. The Charmed Ones and their whitelighter. Somehow, Tim had led them to her lair.   
Dantalian gasped in shock and grabbed Tim by the hand. 

Piper tried to freeze the High Priestess without avail. Something was blocking her. It had to be Lattimer.   
"Tim, don't be an idiot! Get away from her!" Prue shouted.   
Tim didn't move. "Get away! You need to let me handle this!"   
His voice was desperate. 

Dantalian glared at Tim with fury. "_You betrayed me!_ I had planned to consign you to a painless death. Now you will suffer untold agony, Timothy Lattimer. The price of your betrayal is pain beyond imagination." This display was more for the benefit of the Charmed Ones, for she knew Lattimer was incapable of betrayal of any kind.   
Tim looked at her with a sadness that defied words. "I don't think that's possible, Dantalian. I seriously doubt you could make me feel any worse than I'm feeling now." 

Piper tried once more to freeze Dantalian. It wasn't working.   
"Tim, for God's sake get away from her. She's going to kill you! _Can't you see that?_"   
Phoebe's voice was shaking, "Damn you, Tim! Get the hell away! Please!"   
Prue said nothing. Her stare was ice cold.   
Leo shook his head sadly, "Tim, we have to do this. You can't hold us back,,," 

Tim looked once more at Dantalian, holding her hand tightly. "There's a way out of this for both of us. Come back with me, please. Let this go, all of it. You don't need it. You don't need any of it."   
Lattimer's voice was desperate and pleading. "You've probably been around for a long, long time. Maybe a hundred years. Maybe a thousand. But I know there had to be a time when you weren't like this. You must have had someone you cared for and who cared about you. Maybe a mother or father, I don't know. But I know there had to have been a time when you cared and felt. Remember those days, Dantalian. Remember who you once were and come back with me..." 

Dantalian looked at Tim without expression. She let go of his hand and stepped back.   
"This can never be, Timothy Lattimer. You know this. I am what I am. You can no more change me than I can change you." 

Tim was about to say something else when Dantalian reached in her sleeve with her good hand, producing a dagger. Without so much as an eyeblink, she drove the dagger into Tim's abdomen. Lattimer staggered backwards, holding the instrument lodged in his stomach. As he fell, Dantalian grabbed the dagger. Lattimer's body slipped free of the instrument as he fell to the ground.   
There was no pain in his eyes, only sadness.   
It was a sadness so intense that it defied description. 

Phoebe screamed. This was what she'd seen in her premonition. It was too much to take. There had to be a way to stop this. There had to be.   
"_Leo! You've got to do something! Save him!_"   
Leo's voice was low and soft. "I don't know if I can, Pheebs."   
"Then at least try!" Piper urged, looking desperately at Leo.   
The Whitelighter moved carefully towards Tim, watching Dantalian as he moved.   
The High Priestess didn't move. She simply stood, silent as the Great Sphinx, holding the bloody dagger. Her gaze seemed far away, focused on something only she could see. 

Tim was cold. Very very cold.   
He tried to focus his vision on Dantalian, but she was fading away.   
_Had his words, his feelings for her meant anything? Anything at all?_   
_ Apparently not. It had all been an illusion._   
_ So damn depressingly familiar. It was all a waste._   
_ At least he would die with courage. It was a damn pity he hadn't lived the same way._

__

Tim lost all sense of his body. He seemed to be back in the Shuttle cockpit. He wasn't sure of this, but it seemed right. Back on launch pad 34-A. It was getting colder, much much colder. He could no longer feel his extremities. It would be over soon, he knew. The Shuttle would rocket him back into space, the only place he'd ever felt complete. Beyond the Earth's corrupt influence. Beyond the point where Earth's gravity well could pull him back. The heavens and the stars would soon claim him. Within a few moments, the coldness was gone and the darkness was total.   
_ Tim Lattimer was finally home._

Leo knelt next to Tim's body. There was a limit to what even a Whitelighter could do. There was no saving Tim. You couldn't save someone who didn't want to be saved.   
_Lattimer had given up. He'd wanted to die._   
He turned back, facing the girls. "I can't do anything for him. I don't think that anything could have saved him." 

"You goddamn bitch!" Piper screamed at Dantalian.   
This snapped the High Priestess from her trance. She spun around, pointing the dagger at them.   
"Vile hypocrites!, " she spat. "Spare me your righteous indignation! You knew that Lattimer could never live. He was a threat to you, and eventually you too would have seen fit to dispose of him! I did what you could not bring yourselves to do. I did what you had not the courage to do. Speak not to me of your anger and mourning. You delude yourselves with your pathetic delusions of goodness!"   
Dantalian paused for a moment, breathing heavily. Then she leveled her dagger in Piper's direction and hissed. "Ohh, do not think this to be over, little sister. You and I will meet again, of that I promise you. Take your precious Book of Shadows and keep it close, little sister. Keep it close and sleep with it under your blankets at night..._for you will need it!!_"   
Then, in an instant, she was gone.   


For a moment, all were silent. It seemed that no one had the courage to speak. After what seemed like an eternity, Phoebe finally broke the silence. "We really blew it. Tim's dead and we let that bitch get away."   
"I wouldn't worry too much about her, Pheebs. Something tells me she won't be bothering us for awhile. She'll have a lot of explaining to do. I don't think the Source is going to be too happy with his high priestess. This makes two strikes for her. I doubt she'll get a chance for a third."   
"That still leaves Tim, " Phoebe said with resignation.   
"We did all that we could. I don't think we could have done anything differently. He wanted this, Phoebe." Leo said.   
"Ya, but that doesn't make it any easier to take." Phoebe replied.   
"No. I don't suppose it does."   
Prue looked at her younger sister. Her voice was understanding, yet authoritative and firm. "Pheebs, you need to remember that it's never guaranteed things are going to turn out neatly every time. Sometimes you end up dropping something that you value... and it falls and breaks. The best you can do is pick up the pieces and move on. And that's what we have to do now. We need to move on...."   
  


It was a busy night at P3. The crowd was gearing up to it's usual crescendo of rowdiness. Phoebe needed the noise. She needed the crowd. It helped her forget.   
She busied herself behind the bar cleaning glasses and putting them away. Having something to do was sometimes better therapy than the most expensive shrink.   
"You're gonna wear right through the glass with that cloth, kiddo." Piper said jokingly.   
"Tell me something, sis. Please tell me that we did something right. Tell me that it wasn't all a big waste. I need to hear you say that."   
"It wasn't really, Pheebs. Tim died. That was a bad thing. But when you think about it, at least he didn't lose his soul. I think that's the most important thing to remember. It could have turned out a lot worse than it did. We might have ended up having to vanquish him. If we'd had to do that, it would have meant that he was damned. So in that way, I think we succeeded in saving him. "   
"Did Dantalian gain anything by this?"   
Piper paused for a moment, then said "No. She wanted me more than anything else. Getting you and Prue was a second priority. I don't think she really even wanted the book anymore. Not for it's power, anyway. She knew she couldn't touch it, but Tim could. Even if Tim had gotten it for her, she couldn't use it. But then again, neither could we. And without it she would've had a better chance of getting to us."   
"So Tim was just a way for her to get the book. It's sad. I'll never forget the look in his eyes. I wish I could say that I can't understand it. The way he fell for her, I mean. But look at me. I fall for the bad ones every time, sis. In those last few minutes of his life, I think he loved her more than anything. He didn't want to live knowing what she really was. And in the end, she was all that he had. He didn't mean a damn thing to her."   
"That's the funny thing, Pheebs. I'm not so sure the more I think about it. It think that she did care. I think for the first time in maybe a long long time, she did care. _ And it scared the hell out of her_."   
"I'm not sure I agree, sis. But then we'll never know, will we?" Phoebe desperately wanted to change the subject. "So tell me, what band did you book for tonight?"   
Piper looked glumly at her sister. "You sure you wanna know?"   
"Ya. I wanna know."   
"It's a new band. They're just starting out..."   
"What is the name of the friggin' band, Piper?"   
Piper grimaced. "I heard 'em play. They're pretty good..."   
"Piper!"   
"The band's called _Four Bald Guys Who Rock_."   
"You-Are-Kidding-Me. Please, tell me that you're kidding me. Piper?"   
"I'm not joking, Phoebe. That's the name of the band."   
"Ohh, Piper..." Phoebe said shaking her head.   
"Like I had time to book a regular band with all the crap that's been going on. Come on, Pheebs." 

The band began setting up, and within a few moments they prepared to play.   
"_Gooood evening! We're four guys with no hair and we're gonna rock your asses into the ground tonight!_"   
Deafening laugher. Applause.   
"Now here's an old Creedence Clearwater tune that goes back a few. It's called _Sinister Purpose._.." 

_"When the sky is grey_   
_ And the moon is hate_   
_ I'll be down to get you_   
_ Roots of earth will shake_

__

Sinister Purpose   
_ Knockin' at your door_   
_ Come and take my hand_

__

Burn away the goodness   
_ You and I remain_   
_ Did you see the last war?_   
_ Well, here I am again_

__

I can set you free   
_ Make you rich and wise_   
_ We can live forever_   
_ Look into my eyes..."_   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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